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DUKE  UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 


The  Glenn  Negley  Collection 
of  Utopian  Literature 


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http://www.archive.org/details/beyondbournreporOOfisk 


BY  THE  SAME  AITHOR. 


fllMJMuobt  ZnUie  at  tbc  Club. 


Iteported  by  Amos  K.  Fiske.     Ifi  mo.  Vellum  clo.,  gilt 
top  (uniform  with  "  Beyond  the  Bourn  "j,  $1.00. 


"A  very  striking  and  suggestive  little  book,  full  of  wis 

dom  and  thoughtfulness,  and  a  serene  insight  Into  the 

deeper  thinga   of    hit'."— Charleston   (S.   C.)  News  and 

Courier. 

t 
"Keen  Insight,  clear  dlseerninent,  strong  convictions 

and  distinct  Individuality  of  thought.    He  has  the  happy 

faculty  of  looking  at  things  from  various  sides,  and  of 

making  the  subject  dlsclo.se  that  It  luw  different  sides,  all 

worthy  of  consideration.    .    .    Attractive  to  thos(»  who 

wish  to  be  nourished  through  their  Intidllgence  rather 

than  thnmgh  their  prejudlc<'8.    .    .    Thoughtful  i)eople 

will   find  much  In  this  volume  to  repay  careful,  quiet 

reading  atul  to  all  such  we  commend  It."— The  Christian 

Union,  y.  1'. 


FORDS,  HOWARD,  €i  HULBERT, 
30  Lafayette  Place,  New  York  City. 


Beyond  the  Bourn 

IReports 

OF  A  TRAVELLER    RETURNED    FROM 

**THE  UNDISCOVERED  COUNTRY'' 


SUBMITTED   TO   THE   WORLD   BY 

AMOS  K.  FISKE 

Author  of  "  Midnight  Talks  at  The  Club  " 


NEW   YORK 

FORDS,   HOWARD,    &    HULBERT 

1891 


Copyright  in  1891 
By  AMOS  K.  FISKB 


Prefatory  Note. 


The  manuscript,  from  which  the  bulk 
of  this  volume  is  made  up,  came  into  the 
hands  of  the  present  editor  nearly  eigh- 
teen years  ago.  He  was  doubtful,  then, 
whether  the  world  was  ready  to  give 
heed  to  the  revelation  which  it  purported 
to  contain.  He  is  not  certain  yet.  Dur- 
ing that  long  period  this  strange  account 
of  a  disembodied  experience  has  been" 
submitted  in  confidence  to  more  than 
one  competent  judge  of  the  expediency 
of  publication,  but  not  until  recently  had 
the  response  been  encouraging.  At  last 
the  editor  feels  justified  in  discharging 
himself  of  the  responsibility  implied  in 
the  acceptance  of  a  manuscript  intrusted 
to  him  in  the  evident  expectation  that 
sooner  or  later  he  would  give  it  to  the 
world. 


iv  Prefatory  Note. 

If  it  contains  any  message  to  mankind 
of  which  mankind  feels  the  need,  it  will 
doubtless  be  listened  to.  If  not,  it  may- 
be allowed  to  pass  unheeded,  like  those 
weird  utterances,  which  the  dazed  mind 
fails  to  grasp,  of 

"  Airy  tongues  that  syllable  men's  names 
On  sands,  and  shores  and  desert  wildernesses." 

AMOS  K.  FISKE. 
New  York,  March,  1891. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 
I. 

THE   STRANGER   AND   HIS    MANUSCRIPT,  .  .         I 

II. 

A  TALE  OF   LIFE  AND   DEATH,      .  .  .  .  H 

III. 

IN   THE   OTHER  WORLD, 30 

IV. 

"  THE   LIFE    INDEED," 47 

V. 

THE  SECRET  OF   GROWTH, 58 

VI. 

DISCOURSE   OF   A   HEAVENLY  SAGE,        ...  67 


VII. 

LIFE  ON   A   DISTANT   SPHERE, 


.      81 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

VIII. 

PROGRESS   OF  A   PERFECT   RACE,  .  .  .         103 

IX. 

THE  HIGHER  MORALS   AND   RELIGION,  .  .   121 

X. 

SPIRIT  RELATIONSHIP  AND  ACHIEVEMENT,  .         I47 

XL 
SNATCHED   FROM  THE   HEAVENLY   LIFE,  .  .    I72 

XII. 

man's  revelation  to  man,     ...  184 


Beyond  the  Bourn 


I. 

THE   STRANGER   AND   HIS   MANUSCRIPT. 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  1873  that  I 
took  my  wife  and  infant  child  and  left 
the  great,  hot  city  of  New  York  to  find 
refreshment  for  body  and  mind  in  a  quiet 
retreat  in  the  country.  We  did  not  go 
to  watering  place  or  popular  resort,  but 
sought  out  a  little  inland  nook  not  far 
from  the  Hudson  River,  where  we  were 
completely  shut  off  from  all  hint  of  the 
busy  metropolis  and  the  cares  and  labors 
that  we  had  left  behind,  and  gave  our- 
selves up  to  a  four  weeks'  revel  in  the  joys 
of  the  green  summer  time. 

The  place  was  a  bit  of  a  farm,  on  a 
brown    and    dusty    road    which    slipped 


2  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

away  from  the  great  higliways  of  steam- 
boat and  locomotive  into  a  secluded  val- 
ley, a  patchwork  of  pasture,  field  and 
woodland,  kept  always  green  by  one 
garrulous  stream  and  many  rills  which  fed 
it  from  the  mists  on  the  mountains.  I 
had  known  the  house  and  its  mistress 
from  boyhood,  and  found  there  what  I 
wanted,  simple  fare  and  complete  free- 
dom. There  were  two  or  three  others  of 
kindred  tastes  who  passed  some  summer 
weeks  at  the  place  and  gave  the  good 
woman,  in  return  for  healthful  hospital- 
ity, a  little  surplus  of  money  to  carry 
her  through  the  winter. 

Among  these  visitors  in  that  particular 
summer  was  one  I  had  not  seen  before. 
We  found  him  there  when  we  came,  but 
received  no  introduction,  and  he  kept 
himself  a  stranger  in  the  little  hostelry. 
He  was  the  most  mysterious  human  be- 
ing I  ever  met :  tall  and  well  forined,  with 
a  face  that  was  hardly  handsome,  but  had 
a  fascinating  quality  that  led  one  to  look 
at  him  often  and  long.     He  bore  himself 


THE  STRANGER'S  MANUSCRIPT.  3 

as  one  having  no  part  with  company  into 
which  he  was  thrown.  His  dark  hair  fell 
carelessly  over  a  white  brow,  and  his 
eyes  had  a  far-away  look  which  showed 
that  his  thoughts  were  seldom  with  his 
body  or  its  surroundings.  Htj  appeared 
hardly  conscious  that  he  was  an  object  of 
attention,  and  if  spoken  to,  which  rarely 
happened,  seemed  to  be  recalled  from  a 
revery  which  he  would  rather  had  not 
been  disturbed.  On  the  side  of  his  neck 
and  forehead  were  some  large  scars  in 
which  a  slight  inflammation  furnished 
almost  the  only  flush  of  color  about  his 
countenance.  When  forced  to  speak,  it 
was  in  a  low,  quiet  tone,  with  the  least 
touch  of  impatience  at  being  drawn  from 
his  communion  with  the  far-off  world  in 
which  he  seemed  to  live.  He  seldom 
smiled,  and  then  in  a  pensive  way  that 
provoked  no  responsive  smile,  but  had 
rather  a  depressing  effect.  Once  or  twice 
I  tried  to  call  him  out  with  a  question 
or  a  statement  about  the  affairs  of  the 
world  beyond  our  little  retreat.     He  lis- 


4  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

tened  respectfully,  but  with  no  sign  of 
interest  in  the  subject,  and  in  his  answers 
gave  evidence  that  these  matters  never 
occupied  his  thoughts. 

For  my  own  part  I  love  social  converse, 
and,  when  withdrawn  from  the  busy 
world  and  its  exciting  topics  of  news  and 
of  thought,  am  fond  of  talks  on  various 
themes,  the  wonders  of  nature  about  us, 
the  great  and  manifold  mysteries  of  the 
heavens  over  our  heads,  the  thousand  re- 
lations and  obligations  of  the  family  of 
mankind  in  this  life,  and  their  probable 
destiny  and  relations  hereafter.  The 
mind  will  be  busy ;  and,  when  shut  out 
from  commerce,  from  politics,  from  all 
bustling  affairs  that  distract  it  in  our 
working  weeks,  what  more  wholesome 
subjects  than  these,  for  which  we  have 
little  time  save  in  the  summer  holiday? 
Then  we  can  return  to  unwritten  philoso- 
phy and  poetry,  which  were  wont  to  carry 
our  dreaming  youth  above  and  beyond 
the  world  on  wings  of  speculation. 

I  could  not  forego  my  summer  talk  on 


THE  STRANGER'S  MANUSCRIPT.  5 

these  things,— my  little  disputations  and 
discussions    with    our    circle    at    table  or 
around  the  evening  porch,  notwithstand- 
ing the  somewhat  chilling  presence  of  the 
mysterious   guest.     Occasionally,  when  I 
queried  about  the  mysteries  of  the  unseen 
world,   the   life   of  the  departed  and  the 
life  to  come  to  us  all,  he  showed  an  inter- 
est in  the   conversation  and  would  seem 
to  be  listening.     As  he  glanced  up  now 
and  then,  the  peculiar  look  of  his   eyes 
—the  habitual  air  of  remoteness,  as  if  the 
soul  had  left  looking   from  her  windows 

and    was    musing   on    invisible    scenes 

would  disappear,  and  he  seemed  for  the 
time  to  draw  into  our  circle,  though  he 
spoke  no  word  and  made  no  response  to 
what  others  said.  The  look  of  interest 
sometimes  deepened  to  one  almost  of 
pity,  as  if  there  were  things  in  his 
thoughts  far  deeper,  higher  and  truer 
than  those  he  heard,  but  things  so  un- 
utterable that  it  was  useless  to  try  to 
speak  them. 

I    began     at    last   to    regard    this    as 


6  BEYOND  THE  BOURN'. 

the  heart  of  his  mystery.  Some  great 
experience,  I  thought,  or  a  nature  of 
unusual  spirituality  and  strange  insight 
into  things  unseen  by  others,  has  given 
him  a  cast  of  thought  out  of  sympathy 
with  our  common  life.  His  thoughts  are 
not  the  thoughts  of  other  men,  and  they 
are  of  a  kind  to  make  him  silent  and 
lonely  among  his  fellows. 

Of  the  man's  life  I  could  learn  nothing. 
In  all  his  habits  he  was  quiet  and  seclu- 
sive,  and  his  reticence  was  of  a  kind  that 
compelled  respect.  No  one  liked  to 
question  him.  He  had  been  attracted  by 
the  cottage  and  its  romantic  surround- 
ings in  passing,  early  in  the  season,  and 
asked  permission  to  spend  the  summer 
there  at  whatever  rate  of  compensation 
was  right.  He  wished  to  be  known  as 
Mr.  Jameson,  merely,  would  give  little 
trouble,  and  preferred  to  be  left  alto- 
gether to  himself.  His  history  like  his 
character  was  a  mystery,  and  none  of  us 
could  penetrate  it. 

The  time  drew  near  when  we  must  give 


THE  STRANGER'S  MANUSCRIPT.         7 

up  our  paradisian  holiday  and  go  back 
to  the  cares  and  business  of  the  world. 
Our  good  landlady  told  us  that  on  the 
day  previous  to  our  intended  departure 
Mr.  Jameson  was  going,  but  she  knew 
not  whither.  On  the  evening  before 
he  was  to  go,  I  had  wandered  down 
the  road,  as  I  often  did,  and  stood  gazing 
into  the  deep  and  quiet  heavens,  while 
the  drowsy  babble  of  the  brook  and  the 
faint  whisper  of  the  wind  in  the  shrub- 
bery mingled  in  my  ears,  and  carried  my 
soul  off  into  dreamy  speculations.  Sud- 
denly I  was  recalled  from  my  revery  by 
a  touch  on  the  arm,  and  found  our 
strange  friend,  for  so  he  had  become  in 
spite  of  his  unsocial  reticence,  standing 
by  me. 

*'  I  go  away  to-morrow,"  he  said,  *'  and 
you,  soon  after.  I  know  what  you  all 
think  of  me.  I  am  a  mystery  to  you  and 
to  all  that  see  me,  but  I  cannot  help  it. 
I  live  within  myself  because  I  can  live  in 
no  other  way.  I  have  had  an  experience 
which  perhaps  ought  to  be  made  known, 


8  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

but  I  cannot  tell  it  in  my  own  person.  I 
I  have  found  in  you  one  nearer  in  sym- 
pathy with  me  than  any  I  ever  expected 
to  meet  in  this  world,  and  to  you  I  have 
determined  to  intrust  a  crude  record  of 
this  experience,  which  you  may  make 
known  or  not,  as  may  seem  to  you  best." 
With  this,  he  handed  me  a  roll  of  man- 
uscript, and  became  as  silent  as  ever,  as 
we  walked  quietly  back  to  the  cottage. 
When  I  rose  in  the  morning  he  was  gone. 
All  his  arrangements  had  been  made  on 
the  previous  evening  and  no  one  knew 
when  or  how  he  went.  I  examined  the 
roll  of  manuscript  and  found  it  contained 
a  narrative  which  the  author  had  entitled, 

"  A  New  Revelation." 

Since  then  the  MS.  has  lain  most  of  the 
time  undisturbed  in  a  drawer  with  other 
papers,  though  several  times  I  have  taken 
it  out  and  gone  over  the  strange  tale, 
doubting  whether  the  public  w^ould  take 
an  interest  in  it,  or  whether  the  time  were 
ripe  for  the  sort  of  ''  revelation  "  w^hich  it 


THE  STRANGER'S  MANUSCRIPT  9 

offered.  Finally  I  have  concluded  that 
the  only  way  to  test  these  questions  is  to 
give  the  story  to  the  world  ;  indeed  I  have 
felt  under  a  sort  of  implied  obligation  to 
do  so  sooner  or  later,  in  accepting  it  from 
the  hands  of  its  author.  If  he  has  con- 
tinued in  the  land  of  the  living — a  point 
upon  which  I  have  never  been  able  to 
obtain  any  light  since  that  summer  even- 
ing long  past — he  must  have  concluded 
that  I  did  not  consider  it  worth  while  to 
publish  his  "  revelation."  Perhaps  he 
may  have  assumed  that  I  had  doubts  of 
its  genuineness  and  good  faith  ;  but  if  so, 
he  has  never  taken  the  trouble  to  reas- 
sure me  on  that  point.  I  make  no  ques- 
tion at  all  of  the  reality  of  the  experience 
narrated ;  but  as  I  have  found  it  interest- 
ing to  myself,  and  consider  the  speculations 
that  are  involved  with  it  very  suggestive, 
to  say  the  least,  I  venture  at  last  to  have 
it  put  in  print. 

And  I  do  this,  whether  the  great  public, 
with  its  manifold  occupations  and  diver- 
sions, shall   give    it  the    attention  which 


10  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

its  lofty  themes  ought  to  command,  or 
whether  it  shall  permit  the  long  buried 
MS,  to  sink  into  permanent  obscurity. 


II. 

A  TALE   OF   LIFE  AND   DEATH. 

A  FEW  years  ago  I  was  one  of  the  hap- 
piest of  men,  in  my  domestic  relations. 
My  father,  who  was  old  while  I  was  still 
quite  young,  had  accumulated  during  a 
long  and  industrious  life  a  goodly  compe- 
tence, and  we  lived  modestly  but  most 
comfortably  in  our  home  by  one  of  the 
lovely  lakes  in  the  interior  of  New  York 
State.  I  was  always  sensitive  and  shy, 
and  my  acquaintance  beyond  our  own 
little  circle  was  slight.  The  best  of  my 
education  was  obtained  at  a  High  School 
near  by,  but  books,  pictures  and  music 
always  gave  a  degree  of  unpretentious 
refinement  to  our  home  and  were  a 
source  of  constant  pleasure  to  me.  I 
had  a  sister  two  years  younger  than 
myself,  tender   and    affectionate,  with   a 


12  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

fragile  constitution  which  was  calculated 
to  awaken  solicitude  while  it  deepened  at- 
tachment. We  were  the  only  children  of 
the  family,  and  to  our  welfare  our  kindly 
parents  were  entirely  devoted,  treating 
all  our  wishes  with  as  much  indulgence 
as  was  consistent  with  wisdom.  The 
result  was  an  unusually  devoted  affec- 
tion between  the  members  of  the  family. 
Love  for  my  gentle  sister  would  prob- 
ably have  been  still  more  absorbing 
with  me,  as  we  grew  up  together,  but 
for  a  division  of  sentiment  which  favoring 
circumstances  brought  about  for  both  of 
us.  A  boy  of  the  neighborhood  came  to 
be  my  companion  at  an  early  age,  and  we 
were  so  constituted  in  our  differences  of 
taste  and  temperament  as  to  produce 
one  of  those  strong  and  romantic  friend- 
ships which  have  been  the  subjects  of 
story  in  all  ages.  Robert  Ellis  had  an 
ardent  and  robust  nature,  full  of  ambi- 
tion and  enthusiasm,  but  with  an  honesty 
and  candor  that  gave  it  the  simplicity  of 
untarnished  childhood  so  long  as  I  knew 


A   TALE  OP  LIFE  AND  BE  A  TH.         I  3 

him  ;  while  I  was  timid  and  shrinking,  so 
far  as  the  contests  of  life  affected  me  at 
all.  Perhaps  it  was  his  strength  and 
courage  and  eagerness  for  the  strife,  that 
excited  my  special  admiration  and  gained 
my  devoted  affection  ;  while  he  may  have 
been  won  to  me  by  a  gentleness  and 
dependence  that  touched  the  heroic  in 
his  nature.  At  any  rate  as  boys  we  were 
"  all  in  all  "  to  each  other;  and  as  we 
came  to  manhood  only  his  sister  and 
mine  divided  the  treasure  of  our  affec- 
tions. His  sister  Lucy  was  the  feminine 
counterpart  of  himself,  full  of  the  ardor 
and  eagerness  of  young  life,  hopeful  and 
cheery,  and  as  truthful  and  free  from 
guile  as  Nature  herself.  I  do  not  profess 
to  understand  the  psychology  of  those 
two  affections,  but  the  absorbing  love 
which  I  came  to  have  for  his  sister,  made 
perfect  by  a  full,  return  from  her  own 
ardent  nature,  in  no  way  impaired  my 
strong  friendship  for  the  brother.  In 
the  meantime  my  own  fragile  sister  had 
somehow    grown     into    his    manly   heart 


14  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

with  a  hold  as  strong  as  life.  Here  was 
a  quartet  of  human  souls,  knit  together 
by  the  interlacing  bonds  of  mutual  affec- 
tion, which  it  would  be  death  to  sun- 
der. 

Until  the  age  of  twenty-five,  my  life 
had  been  without  a  shadow,  and  prom- 
ised a  future  as  serene  and  happy;  but  it 
is  rare  that  Heaven  vouchsafes  to  man  a 
life  of  uninterrupted  felicity.  Each  must 
take  his  share  of  trouble  and  sorrow,  and 
if  it  comes  late  and  he  has  had  no  fore- 
taste, it  will  be  so  much  the  harder  to  bear. 
The  great  but  ever-merciful  Power  that 
holds  us  in  his  keeping,  seems  to  have 
chosen  me  for  affliction,  perhaps  that  out 
of  it  might  come  some  great  good. 

The  first  cloud  to  come  across  my  se- 
rene sky  was  the  death  of  my  father  and 
mother,  which  occurred  in  the  same 
week ;  but  they  had  become  old,  and 
their  departure  was  not  unlooked  for. 
Moreover,  they  had  seen  me  happily 
married,  and  were  ready  to  leave  me 
master  of  the  homestead  and   father  of  a 


A   TALE  OF  LIFE  AND  DEA  TH.        I  5 

family  to  come.  Yes,  I  was  happily  mar- 
ried to  one  whose  heart  had  never  been 
touched  by  thought  of  love  for  any  other 
in  the  same  kind,  but  was  mine  wholly, 
and  one  whose  dominion  over  my  soul 
was  complete  and  undisputed— the  sister 
of  my  dearest  friend. 

The   loss   of   our  parents   would    have 
been  much  harder  for  my  gentle  sister, 
Ellen,   but    for   the    fact    that    she   was 
already    affianced    to    Robert    Ellis,    and 
had   his    strong  nature  to  rest  upon,  as 
well  as  all  the  support  to  be  derived  from 
the  devoted  affection  of  myself  and  my 
wife.     She  had  a  home  with    us,  and  a 
happy  home  of  her  own   in  view,  and  it 
was  but  natural  that  even  her  sensitive 
nature  should  bear  this  first  sorrow  with 
some  degree  of  composure.     For  myself 
it  was  not  hard.     It    gave    to   my  quiet 
moments  a  deeper  thoughtfulness,  and  to 
the  dusk  of  evening  at   times  a  solemn 
sadness,  as  if  sanctified  by  the  presence 
of  the  departed  ones.     They  had  passed 
on  without   regret,   and   awaited   us  in  a 


1 6  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

home  which  we  confidently  expected  to 
share  when  our  call  should  come. 

But  at  no  great  interval  after  this  first 
sorrow  came  a  succession  of  pitiless  blows 
of  affliction.  The  terrible  war  of  1861 
had  come  upon  the  country,  with  its  vol- 
ume of  tragedies  for  American  homes. 
My  friend  was  by  nature  a  patriot  and  a 
hero,  and  he  could  not  resist  the  call  to 
what  he  deemed  the  post  of  duty  for 
every  man  who  was  free  to  go  to  the  de- 
fence of  the  Union  and  of  the  cause  of 
liberty.  Even  his  love  for  my  sister, 
whom  he  expected  soon  to  take  under 
his  care  for  life,  could  not  overcome  in 
his  mind  that  profound  sense  of  obliga- 
tion to  take  his  part  in  saving  the  life  of 
the  nation.  He  pleaded  that  it  would 
only  postpone  their  happiness,  and  that 
it  would  make  him  more  worthy  of  it ; 
in  fact,  he  should  always  feel  like  a  craven 
if  he  did  not  make  this  brief  sacrifice  for 
a  cause  more  sacred  than  any  private 
claim.  The  poor  girl  sympathized  fully 
with  his  feeling,  and,  though  with  many 


A   TALE  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         1/ 

tears  and  secret  misgivings,  she  encour- 
aged him  to  go.  She  would  follow  him 
with  her  heart,  and  await  his  return  with 
hope  of  increased  joy. 

The  pitiful  parting  took  place,  and  our 
hero  departed  for  the  field  of  danger, 
followed  with  foreboding,  on  my  part  at 
least.  Aside  from  the  perils  of  the  great 
conflict  and  the  uncertain  fate  to  which 
he  committed  himself,  his  absence  was  in 
itself  a  bereavement  to  our  home.  I 
confess  that  I  had  not  the  heroic  temper 
that  would  induce  me  to  accompany  him 
in  any  case.  I  was  fond  of  quiet  and 
retirement  and  little  given  to  energetic 
action,  and  neither  the  duties  nor  the 
hardships  of  war  had  any  attraction  for 
me.  But  plainly  I  had  excuse  enough 
in  the  care  of  those  now  left  to  my  exclu- 
sive charge,  and  no  human  power  could 
have  torn  me  from  my  wife  and  home, 
the  idol  of  my  worship  and  its  temple. 

The  adventures  of  the  camp  and  of  the 
battle-field,  the  vicissitudes  of  a  soldier's 
life,  came  to  us  in  an  ever-continued  story 


1 8  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

from  our  patriot  friend,  told  with  unflag- 
ging spirit  and  never  wavering  cheerfulness 
and  hope.  It  w^as  pathetic  to  see  how 
completely  my  poor  sister's  life  and 
thoughts  were  absorbed  in  this  intermit- 
tent tale  of  real  life,  of  which  the  out- 
come was  shrouded  in  more  thrilling  un- 
certainty than  novelist  could  devise  for 
his  fiction,  and  it  was  plainly  evident  that 
a  fatal  catastrophe  to  the  hero  would  snap 
her  own  frail  hold  upon  life. 

Suddenly,  in  the  dark  days  of 
'63  the  tale  of  his  adventures  was 
broken  short  ;  to  be  continued  to  an 
abrupt  close  by  "  another  hand."  After 
a  period  of  anxious  waiting  the  dreaded 
word  from  the  new  and  unknown  writer 
came.  Our  beloved  friend  had  been 
struck  down  in  the  midst  of  battle  in  the 
cornfields  of  Gettysburg.  Death  was  im- 
mediate, without  preliminary  suffering, 
without  last  words  or  loving  message, 
save  such  as  had  been  sealed  up  in  antici- 
pation of  possible  fatality  on  the  field. 
My  sister  received  the  news  with  tearless 


A   TALE  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         1 9 

pallor,  and  it  seemed  as  though  she  had 
been  expecting  it  all  these  two  heavy 
years.  She  uttered  no  word  or  wail  of 
sorrow,  she  fell  under  no  sudden  stroke 
of  prostration,  but  she  clung  to  life  under 
the  strain  of  the  days  that  intervened 
before  the  mangled  body  of  her  heroic 
lover  came  to  deepen  the  gloom  of  our 
home. 

Fortunately,  the  noble  face  and  head 
were  not  marred,  and  on  the  calm  lin- 
eaments rested  the  promise  of  immortal 
peace.  In  the  silent  and  darkened  room 
in  which  the  casket  was  placed,  with  only 
the  face  of  the  dead  uncovered,  we  left 
Ellen  alone,  according  to  her  wish. 
When  at  last  we  quietly  went  in,  intend- 
ing with  all  gentleness  to  draw  her  away, 
her  arms  were  encircling  the  head  and  her 
face  resting  upon  the  face  of  the  husband 
of  her  heart,  and  she  too  was  dead,  with 
a  smile  upon  her  lips.  Perhaps  the  two 
souls  had  met  there  and  departed  together 
to  fulfil  the  promises  made  on  earth. 

We  buried  them  side  by  side    in    the 


20  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

beautiful  cemetery  by  the  lake,  and  with 
aching  hearts  heaped  flowers  on  the 
double  grave,  striving  so  far  as  possible 
to  drive  away  the  gloom  of  death. 

Now  only  wife  and  home  were  left  to  me 
this  side  the  shadows,  and  oh  I  how  I 
clung  to  them, — almost  with  fear  and 
trembling  lest  they  should  go  too.  And 
it  seems  the  pitying  heavens  must  needs 
have  them,  for  a  few  months  later  w\\ 
darling  was  torn  from  me,  in  the  struggle 
to  bring  a  new  soul  from  God  to  dwell  in 
our  home  and  perchance  to  give  us  com- 
fort for  the  losses  of  the  past.  But  she 
perished  in  a  mission  too  severe  for  Ium- 
vitality,  which  had  been  impaired  b\' 
recent  afflictions  ;  and  the  new  soul,  too, 
fluttered  f(^r  a  moment  on  the  verge  of 
earthly  life  and  went  back  to  God.  There 
was  another  burial  ;  and  father,  mother, 
sister,  friend,  wife  and  babe,  lay  side  by 
side  in  the  green  churchyard  by  the  placid 
lake. 

•  Then  the  home  that  had  been  so  bright 
and    beautiful    was    utterly   desolate.     It 


A    TALE  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         21 

seemed  as  though  some  unmerciful  spirit 
had  come  in  at  that  door  again  and  again, 
and  carried  away  amid  funeral  odors  and  a 
thickening  gloom  each  time  a  more  pre- 
cious treasure,  till  nothing  was  left.  My 
loneliness  and  misery  were  unutterable  in 
the  home  now  so  completely  bereft.  To 
seek  oblivion  in  narcotics  or  stimulants 
was  a  repulsive  folly,  and  there  was  no  hope 
that  forgetfulness  would  come  of  itself. 
My  mind  was  too  strong  to  break  down 
and  find  relief  in  disorganization  and 
mental  chaos.  My  occupations  at  home 
instead  of  taking  my  thoughts  from  my 
losses  continually  recalled  them  to -me. 

I  determined  to  sell  my  homestead  and 
seek  in  the  great  world,  of  which  I  knew 
so  little,  that  distraction  which  alone 
could  save  me  from  settled  melancholy 
and  utter  wretchedness.  This  I  did.  A 
part  of  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  were  in- 
vested to  form  a  fund  for  future  re- 
source ;  the  rest  converted  into  cash  for 
immediate  use.  I  then  set  out  on  my 
travels. 


22  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

I  visited  the  cities  of  the  Atlantic  coast 
in  my  own  country,  and  went  to  the 
great  prairies  and  lakes,  to  the  moun- 
tains and  the  backwoods.  I  crossed  the 
rocky  ridges  to  the  Pacific  side  and  sought 
out  the  wonders  of  that  marvellous  region. 
Returning  I  went  to  Europe  and  visited 
her  capitals,  and  extended  my  wandering 
among  the  mystic  monuments  of  Egypt 
and  Arabia,  and  the  sacred  reminiscences 
of  Palestine. 

Everywhere  I  sought  for  whatever 
could  interest  and  absorb  the  thoughts. 
The  constant  succession  of  new  things, 
the  continual  occupation  of  the  mind 
with  the  wonders  of  the  earth,  over- 
whelmed the  old  grief  and  wrought 
through  meditation  a  philosophy  which 
imparted  some  degree  of  calm  resigna- 
tion, though  the  joy  of  youthful  life  was 
gone  out  forcvcj".  1  returned  from  these 
wanderings  after  five  years,  older  by  a 
century  in  experience, — philosophic  and 
thoughtful,  and  if  not  quite  happy,  at 
least  not  altogether  wretched. 


A   TALE  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         23 

On  returning  from  over  the  sea  I  landed 
in  Canada,  as  I  had  not  visited  that 
country  before  leaving  my  native  land.  I 
went  up  the  St.  Lawrence  and  viewed 
what  has  most  semblance  of  the  ancient 
in  our  Northern-Western  continent ;  and 
then — with  emotions  that  no  man  could 
describe  or  fully  conceive  unless  he  had 
been  through  a  like  experience — I  en- 
tered my  native  land  once  more,  and  set 
out  to  pass  through  the  length  of  Ver- 
mont towards  the  older  cities  of  the  At- 
lantic coast.  There  I  proposed  to  spend 
the  rest  of  my  days  amid  books  and  the 
converse  of  such  men  as  my  travelled  lore 
might  bring  me  acquainted  with. 

It  was  late  in  the  spring  and  I  was  rid- 
ing on  a  railroad  train  through  a  wild  and 
rugged  part  of  the  Green  Mountain  state. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  heavy  black  clouds 
rolled  into  the  heavens  from  beyond  the 
ridges  to  the  west,  and  ominous  rumblings 
of  thunder  uttered  threats  of  a  storm  of 
uncommon  violence.  The  train  rattled  on 
as   the   darkness   thickened,  and    shortly 


24  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

after  sunset  we  were  plunging  madly 
through  a  black  gloom,  occasionally  filled 
with  a  lurid  light  as  the  flashes  of  light- 
ning sprang  into  it  and  disappeared 
again.  Presently  the  rain  came  in  tor- 
rents and  the  wind  dashed  it  against  the 
cars  as  if  determined  to  throw  them  from 
the  track.  Still  the  engineer  dashed  on, 
hauling  us  through  the  storm  at  what 
seemed  a  frightful  speed.  Crashes  of 
thunder  came  as  if  the  heavens  were 
breaking  in  pieces,  and  we  almost  ex- 
pected that  the  fierce  flashes  that  fol- 
lowed would  show  us  the  fragments  of 
the  collapsing  universe.  But  each  time 
nature  sprang  into  being  as  from  a  new 
chaos  ;  for  a  moment  trees  struggling 
with  the  tempest,  rocks  and  gorges  over 
which  the  accumulating  waters  dashed 
wildly  as  if  in  fright,  appeared  and  were 
again  swallowed  by  the  darkness.  The 
noise  of  the  wheels  and  shrieks  of  the 
engine  mingling  with  the  tremendous 
hurlyburly  of  the  elements  was  appalling. 
In  the  car,  dimly  lighted  with  two  or 


A   TALE  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         25 

three  wretched  lamps,  the  passengers  sat 
oppressed  with  a  vague  fear,  as  if  wait- 
ing for  some  inevitable  crash,  the  conse- 
quences of  which  they  could  not  guess. 
Once  or  twice  the  car  gave  an  ugly  lurch 
and  plunge,  and  the  engineer  slackened 
somewhat  his  terrific  speed.  This  caution 
seemed  to  frighten  us  even  more  than  the 
previous  recklessness,  as  it  indicated  real 
danger.  By  and  by  came  a  plunge  which 
threw  everybody  out  of  his  seat,  then  a 
succession  of  heavy  thumps  which  threat- 
ened to  disjoint  the  frame,  and  the  car- 
riage was  left  pitched  into  the  mud, 
while  those  behind  dashed  upon  it  and 
the  engine  sped  off  down  the  track. 

Everybody  was  bruised  and  terribly 
frightened,  but  no  one  was  badly  hurt. 
A  culvert  had  been  washed  away  by  the 
torrent  and  the  track  had  sunk  from  its 
proper  level.  The  engine  and  baggage 
car  had  passed  safely  over,  but  the  car  in 
which  I  sat  was  thrown  from  the  track 
and  its  coupling  broken.  The  train  had 
been  brought  to   a  very  slow  speed,  and 


26  BEYOND  THE  JWURN. 

hence  our  escape  from  destruction.  It 
was  fortunate  that  few  passengers  travelled 
on  the  night  train,  for  we  were  still  in  the 
wilderness,  far  from  any  comfortable  ac- 
commodations. 

The  conductor  came  around,  swinging 
his  lantern  in  the  darkness  and  glistening 
in  his  india-rubber  coat,  and  got  us  all 
together,  wet  and  shivering  and  battered 
by  the  pitiless  storm.  The  engine  backed 
up,  and  stood  glaring  and  snorting  as  if 
the  wild  scene  and  the  fierce  weather  just 
suited  its  temper.  In  fact  it  looked  like 
a  horrible  monster,  waiting  impatiently 
for  us  to  put  ourselves  in  his  power  once 
more,  and  determined  that  we  should  not 
escape  so  easily  again.  It  appeared  that 
it  was  impracticable  to  repair  the  track 
and  get  the  cars  into  position  to  proceed, 
and  we  must  needs  crowd  into  the  bag- 
gage car  to  be  taken  to  the  next  station. 
It  seemed  like  a  perilous  experiment,  but 
there  was  no  choice  except  to  stay  there 
in  the  darkness  and  rain,  in  what  to  us 
was   an    unknown   wilderness.     The  con- 


A   TALE  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH.         27 

ductor  said  there  was  no  danger,  but  each 
man  felt  that  he  knew  better  and  went 
into  the  dismal  baggage  car  with  a  shud- 
der and  a  silent  protest.  It  was  a  rough 
affair,  half  filled  with  trunks  and  boxes 
and  lighted  by  two  sickly  lanterns. 

We  bestowed  ourselves  as  best  we  could, 
crowded  together  like  cattle,  drenched 
with  rain,  and  in  anything  but  a  cheerful 
mood.  The  engineer  started  on,  and 
soon  we  seemed  to  be  plunging  down  a 
grade  at  a  furious  speed.  Perhaps  our 
fears  and  our  uncomfortable  position 
exaggerated  to  our  minds  the  rate  at 
which  we  were  going  but  it  seemed  tre- 
mendous, and  faces  grew  pale  and  eyes 
gleamed  with  excitement  in  the  darkness. 
Some  one  remonstrated  with  the  conduc- 
tor. The  engine  had  little  to  draw  and 
was  evidently  on  a  descending  grade. 
The  torrents  from  the  hills  were  likely  to 
undermine  the  track  at  any  point.  The 
danger  was  evident,  and  it  was  sheer 
recklessness  to  proceed  except  with  the 
greatest    caution.      The    conductor    had 


26  BEYOND  Tllh  BOURN. 

just  seized  the  cord  to  give  the  signal  to 
the  engineer  to  slacken  his  speed  when 
one  terrific  crash  came,  followed  by  a 
shock  that  seemed  to  wrench  my  body  to 
pieces,  and  the  car  and  all  its  contents 
were  dashed  in  fragments  upon  the  glow- 
ing, raving  engine,  which  was  thrown 
over  and  screeching  as  if  with  horror  at 
its  own  work. 

I  was  conscious  of  being  crushed  and 
immovable  in  a  mass  of  fragments ;  I 
knew  that  I  was  fearfully  cut  and  bruised 
about  the  head  and  neck  ;  I  heard  groans 
and  shrieks  of  such  mingled  pain  and 
horror  that  they  almost  made  me  forget 
my  own  situation.  Soon  the  crushing 
weight  and  the  fierce  pain  became  insup- 
portable, and,  to  add  to  the  horrors  of  the 
situation,  scalding  steam  and  burning 
heat  from  the  engine  fire  were  at  once 
boiling  and  roasting  us. 

As  I  realized  after  the  first  quick  con- 
sciousness of  what  had  happened,  that 
I  was  utterly  helpless,  probably  fatally 
hurt,  and  almost  sure    to    be   burned    or 


A   TALE  OF  LIFE  AND  DEA  TH.         29 

scalded  to  death  on  the  spot,  a  strange 
and  awful  feeling  came  over  me.  Here 
was  death  suddenly  upon  me,  which  I 
had  regarded  only  as  a  vague  and  far  ofT 
fate.  In  a  moment  I  should  be  in  the 
other  world  and  all  its  mystery.  My  past 
life,  its  early  happiness,  the  shock  of  its 
great  sorrows,  the  slow  and  painful  heal- 
ing of  the  wounds  in  these  later  years, — • 
all  occurred  to  me  in  a  moment,  and  I 
thought  of  the  doubts  that  I  sometimes 
felt,  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  and 
of  the  happiness  or  misery  of  a  future 
life.  I  rejoiced  that  I  had  little  to  re- 
proach myself  with  beyond  the  small  fail- 
ings for  which  poor  human  nature  can 
readily  find  excuse,  and  that  I  could  meet 
whatever  was  now  to  come  without  falter- 
ing. One  moment  of  fierce  agony,  a 
shock  that  wrenched  my  whole  bod}^  as  if 
by  the  sundering  of  the  flesh  and  spirit, 
and  I  seemed  to  sink  and  glide  immeasur- 
able lengths  and  depths  at  a  dizzy  speed 
into  darkness  and  oblivion. 


III. 

IN   THE   OTHER   WORLD. 

After  a  stretch  of  time  which  I  could 
not  measure,  which  might  have  been 
moments  and  might  have  been  ages,  I 
was  conscious  of  renewed  existence  and 
of  the  presence  of  other  beings.  As  that 
consciousness  grew  clear,  intense,  almost 
overwhelming  in  its  fulness,  I  knew  that 
I  was  in  the  spirit  world  and  with  the 
beloved  of  former  years. 

The  nature  of  that  consciousness  I  can- 
not hope  to  describe  in  the  language  of 
earth,  or  make  clear  to  minds  that  never 
experienced  it.  I  had  no  body ;  and  yet 
felt  my  identity,  my  personal  presence, 
with  a  completeness  and  intensity  that 
was  altogether  new.  I  saw  not  and 
heard  not,  in  the  earthly  sense  ;  and  yet 
my   knowledge  of  my  surroundings  and 


IN  THE  OTHER   WORLD.  3 1 

of  the  presence  of  others  was  far  more 
distinct  than  bodily  sight  and  hearing 
could  make  it.  We  spake  not  with 
tongues  of  flesh,  we  heard  not  with  ears 
of  flesh,  and  yet  our  communication  was 
so  perfect  that  I  marvelled  as  at  a  new 
birth.  The  soul  was  freed  from  the  im- 
pediment of  flesh,  it  acted  without  the 
cumbersome  instrumentality  of  physical 
organs,  and  its  action  was  full  and  free. 

It  will  be  difficult  to  make  the  condi- 
tions of  my  new  life  comprehensible  to 
those  whose  experience  has  been  confined 
to  the  embryonic  stage  of  human  exist- 
ence, but  the  faculties  of  the  soul  were 
not  changed,  and  its  perceptions  were 
analogous  to  those  to  which  it  had  been 
accustomed.  It  had  no  further  need  of 
physical  senses,  and  yet  it  saw  and  heard 
and  felt  with  a  clearness  and  vividness 
that  were  unattainable  through  the  or- 
gans of  the  body.  It  could  enjoy  now 
the  full  benefit  of  the  development  which 
it  had  attained  with  the  aid  of  the  body 
and  its  functions,  and  exercise   its   facul- 


32  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

ties  with  a  freedom  and  vigor  that  were 
impossible  wlieii  it  was  confined  in  the 
integument  of  flesh. 

In  attempting  to  put  into  the  form  of 
human  speech  a  description  of  the  sur- 
rounding's in  which  I  found  m\'sclf,  and 
an  account  of  the  experience  which  I 
underwent,  it  will  be  possible  to  give 
only  a  faint  impression  of  the  realit}',  for 
the  language  of  man  is  inadequate  to  ex- 
press and  the  understanding  of  man  in- 
capable of  grasping  the  facts  of  an  expe- 
rience and  observation  beyond  the  range 
of  earthly  life.  The  effort  to  picture 
it  is  like  striving  to  reveal  the  beauties 
of  a  glorious  vision  through  an  imperfect 
medium  to  a  darkened  mind  ;  but  it  may 
afford  glimpses  that  will  give  comfort  to 
those  who  long  to  know  something  of  the 
life  beyond. 

First  of  all  I  would  try  to  give  some 
idea  of  the  recompense  that  was  found 
for  the  trials,  struggles  and  sorrows  of  the 
earthly  life.  These  seemed  as  small  and 
far  away  in  comparison  with  the  satisfac- 


IN  THE  OTHER  WORLD.  33 

tion  now  enjoyed,  as  the  sphere  on  which 
they  were  undergone  seemed  insignifi- 
cant, as  a  part  of  God's  creation.  Here  I 
found  father  and  mother  in  a  blissful 
union  that  was  marred  by  no  discordant 
note  and  no  fear  of  interruption.  They 
looked  back  to  their  former  life  with 
thankfulness  that  it  had  prepared  them 
for  this,  but  they  would  no  more  desire  to 
return  to  it  than  a  miner  who  had  toiled 
for  years  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  would 
wish  to  go  back  to  his  wearisome  tasks,  if 
once  released  and  placed  in  comfortable 
and  joyous  surroundings  in  the  cheerful 
sunlight.  To  them  had  now  been  gathered 
the  children  they  left  behind,  and  the 
mutual  understanding  and  full  apprecia- 
tion of  each  other  gave  their  communion 
a  delight  that  was  before  inconceivable. 
The  coming  of  their  daughter,  which  to 
me  had  been  such  a  grief,  was  to  them 
and  to  her  a  joy  unspeakable.  In  the 
body  she  had  been  frail  and  an  object  of 
solicitude,  but  in  the  spirit  world  she 
blossomed   to  the   fulness  of  angelic  life 


34  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

at  once.  The  attributes  that  had  been 
cramped  by  physical  weakness  and  nar- 
row opportunities  expanded  in  their  full 
glory,  and  that  pure  lov^e  which  had  been 
awakened  on  earth  found  a  purer  fruition 
because  it  liad  never  been  sullied  by  the 
harsh  experiences  of  a  common  life.  She 
had  been  literally  carried  to  heaven  by 
her  hero  lover,  who  lingered,  "  hovering 
o'er  the  dolorous  strait,"  that  they  might 
together  "  arrive  at  last  the  blessed  goal  " 
and  be  taken  "  as  a  single  soul."  So  had 
they  been  united  in  the  marriage  of  eter- 
nity by  death  itself, — in  a  union  that  no 
trial  or  sorrow  could  ever  assail,  fur  w  hich 
only  the  pure  in  heart  are  fit.  My  own 
beloved  wife,  and  the  babe  that  had 
known  nothing  of  the  earthly  life,  which 
had  opened  and  shut  for  it  merely  as  a 
gateway  to  heaven — during  my  sorrowful 
wanderings  they  had  awaited  me  with 
happiness  unalloyed,  knowing  how  great 
would  be  the  joy  of  reunion,  and  how 
small  would  then  seem  the  delay  and  the 
sorrows   I   had  borne,  which   would  only 


IN  THE  OTHER   WORLD.  35 

heighten  the  bh'ss.  And  the  Httle  one  had 
grown  in  this  hfe  like  one  native  to  it, 
developing  in  spiritual  purity  and  strength 
with  scarcely  a  taint  of  earth.  Here 
was  a  happy  family,  in  a  sense  that 
no  combination  of  fortunate  circum- 
stances could  make  real  in  the  conditions 
of  earth,  associated  with  other  families  in 
like  manner  united  after  the  vicissitudes 
of  the  pilgrimage  in  the  flesh,  and  with  the 
good  and  pure  of  all  ages  and  climes,  in 
fact  of  all  the  worlds  of  the  universe. 

When  the  first  joyful  greetings  and  in- 
terchange of  experiences  were  fairly  over 
and  I  could  turn  my  thoughts  from  the 
persons  among  whom  I  was  so  gladly  re- 
ceived to  the  conditions  of  this  new  life, 
my  curiosity  was  awakened,  and  I  began 
to  inquire  into  the  nature  of  the  sphere  of 
being  upon  which  I  had  entered.  Evi- 
dently we  were  still  in  the  great  universe 
of  nature  of  which  the  earth  is  a  part,  and 
of  which  men  in  their  mortal  state  have 
gained  some  glimpses  of  knowledge  ;  not 
in  a  space  set  apart  beyond  the  bounds  of 


36  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

infinity,  and  garnished  with  scenes  that 
were  only  magnified  copies  of  those  fa- 
mihar  on  the  earth. 

As  the  faculties  of  the  spirit  were  ex- 
panded and  untramelled,  but  not  changed 
in  their  nature,  and  as  its  perceptions 
were  analogous  to  those  which  it  formerly 
gained  through  the  senses,  so  had  the 
surroundings  in  which  it  found  itself  a 
glorified  likeness  to  those  in  which  it  re- 
ceived its  first  experience  and  its  training 
for  eternal  life.  And  yet,  my  former  con- 
ceptions of  that  life,  and  of  the  sphere  in 
which  it  was  destined  to  pass,  now  seemed 
so  distorted  and  inadequate  as  to  be  ridic- 
ulous. In  their  aspirations  for  an  immortal 
state  and  in  their  endeavors  to  picture 
the  glories  of  the  after  life,  men  have  of 
necessity  drawn  upon  their  imagination 
and  have  used  the  materials  of  the  exist- 
ence with  which  they  are  familiar.  In 
the  various  stages  of  their  moral  and  spir- 
itual development  and  of  their  knowledge 
of  the  universe,  they  have  painted  visions 
of  beauty  and  delight  in  accordance  with 


IN  THE  OTHER  WORLD.  37 

a  faith  darkened  by  ignorance  and  dis- 
torted by  superstition,  regarding  as  the 
revelation  of  supreme  wisdom  the  highest 
conceptions  they  could  attain.  Their 
heaven  was  made  up  of  the  elements  of 
earth  ;  their  immortal  life  was  a  trans- 
fio-uration  of  a  mortal  existence  ;  and  they 
carried  the  materials  of  the  dust  and  the 
occupations  of  the  flesh  into  their  dreams 
of  a  spirit  world. 

I  found  that  the  unlimited  expanse  of 
the    universe   was  the  home    of    the  dis- 
embodied  spirit,    which   could    range    at 
will     in     the   wide,    free    spaces    of    the 
heavens.      It  could   indeed  visit   any  of 
the  rolling  worlds,  which  without  number 
peopled  the    boundless    region,  but  with 
their  actual  substance  occupied  so  small 
a    portion    of    its    immensity.       By   that 
spiritual  power  of  discernment  which  cor- 
responds   to    the  vision    of    the    eye,  we 
could   take    in   the    grand    march   of    the 
worlds,  as    planets   circled    around    their 
suns,  and    those    suns,  with  their  retinues 
of  shining  spheres,  moved  around  greater 


38  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

centres,  and  those  centres  again,  with  their 
vaster  systems,  travelled  in  their  ap- 
pointed circuits.  And  from  these  mighty- 
revolutions  there  came,  as  it  were,  a 
blending  of  sounds  which  swept  through  all 
the  universe  in  supernal  harmony  that 
thrilled  the  soul  with  musical  deli<xht. 

The  place  which  we  occupied  would 
appear  to  human  thought  to  be  in  the 
very  midst  of  infinite  space — all  directions 
being  alike  and  all  distances  without  limit. 
While  there  was  no  material  substance 
that  would  be  palpable  to  sense,  there 
were  forms  and  colors  perceptible  to  the 
spiritual  faculties  in  vivid  beauty,  consti- 
tuting scenes  of  delight  and  structures  of 
surpassing  grandeur,  amidst  which  were 
the  abodes  of  the  blest.  While  the  spirit 
itself  had  no  substantial  embodiment,  like 
that  from  which  it  was  released  by  the 
death  of  the  body,  it  had  a  clear  individ- 
uality, a  distinct  personality,  which  was 
far  more  fully  recognizable  by  its  fellow 
spirits  than  it  could  ever  be  in  the  flesh. 

There  was  indeed,  a  far  more  vivid  per- 


IN  THE  OTHER   WORLD.  39 

ception  of  personal  presence  than  the 
embodied  soul  can  know,  and  a  fulness  of 
understanding  and  a  freedom  of  associa- 
tion impossible  in  earthly  life.  If  men, 
imprisoned  in  the  body  and  dependent 
upon  sense,  were  to  be  transported  to  that 
celestial  scene,  the  eye  would  see  no  form 
or  line  of  beauty ,  the  ear  would  hear  no 
sound  of  joy ;  and  the  soul  would  be  shut 
off  from  association  with  the  emancipated 
hosts,  seeming  to  be  alone  in  an  infinite 
void.  And  yet  to  the  disembodied  soul, 
freed  from  the  trammels  of  the  flesh, 
the  celestial  region  was  filled  with  glori- 
ous brightness  and  joyous  life,  and  its 
denizens  were  occupied  with  activities  to 
which  those  of  earth  were  as  the  torpid 
movements  of  the  unhatched  chrysalis. 

Not  only  did  the  perceptions  far  sur- 
pass in  keenness  and  clearness  those 
obtained  through  physical  senses,  but  the 
sentiments  of  the  soul  were  exalted  and 
purified,  and  association  was  freed  from 
every  taint  of  the  passions  and  selfish 
instincts  derived   from  an  animal  state  of 


40  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

existence  and  its  necessities.  As  we 
reposed  amid  celestial  surroundings  we 
received  the  effect  of  grandeur,  sublimity, 
eternal  peace,  joy-inspiring  beauty  and 
melody ;  or  we  could  move  from  space  to 
space  with  the  celerity  of  thought,  and 
join  with  zest  in  the  manifold  activities  of 
the  heavenly  realm. 

The  years  during  which  the  friend  of 
my  earthly  days  had  been  separated  from 
me  seemed  to  him  like  the  passage  of  a 
night,  so  absorbed  had  he  been  in  the 
delights  of  the  higher  state.  He  told  me 
that  he  had  been  gaining  in  knowledge  of 
the  wonders  of  the  universe,  and  that  life 
was  still  a  continual  revelation,  and  must 
ever  be  so.  The  spirit,  new  to  this  state 
of  being,  could  not  grasp  its  glories  all  at 
once,  but  simply  entered  upon  a  new 
stage  of  development.  As  its  knowledge 
grew  and  its  capacities  expanded,  its 
power  of  enjoyment  increased,  and  to 
the  growth  of  its  happiness  there  was  no 
end. 

I  could  see  as  we   moved  about  at  will 


IN  THE  OTHER  WORLD.  41 

that  new  marvels  everywhere  appeared, 
and  that  of  what  there  was  to  learn  and 
to  enjoy  there  could  be  no  possible  limit. 
Not  only  was  the  infinite  universe  open 
to  the  exploration  of  the  eager  spirit,  but 
its  myriads  of  denizens,  gathered  from  all 
its  parts  and  brought  up  from  a  thousand 
varied  experiences  in  different  spheres 
and  through  millions  of  successive  genera- 
tions, afforded  a  limitless  opportunity  for 
learning  by  association  and  communion. 

^'  Tell  me,"  said  I,  "  of  this  life  upon 
which  I  have  entered,  this  world  so  differ- 
ent from  what  I  have  been  taught  to 
expect.     Initiate  me  into  its  mysteries." 

*'  Come  with  me,"  answered  my  friend, 
and  no  sooner  had  I  given  my  ready  con- 
sent than  we  sped  as  swift  as  thought 
through  the  infinite  realms  of  space.  In 
a  moment's  time  we  seemed  to  be  alone 
in  a  part  of  the  heavens  far  remote  from 
the  scene  of  our  meeting.  While  we 
reposed  in  the  celestial  ether  in  what 
seemed  a  heavenly  solitude,  though  still 
in   the   midst   of   revolving   spheres,  my 


42  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

friend  and  teacher  began  to  discourse  in 
answer  to  my  inquiries. 

"Tliis  is  the  eternal  universe,"  he 
began,  *'  tlie  same  to  which  we  were 
introduced  at  our  birth  in  yonder  lowly 
star,  one  of  the  least  of  these  revolving 
globes;  but  our  comprehension  of  its 
nature  and  wonders  while  there  was  al- 
most as  imperfect  as  that  of  the  worm 
that  grovels  in  its  soil.  We  were  then  in 
the  midst  of  this  realm  of  grandeur  and 
of  spiritual  life,  but  fastened  to  one  tiny 
spot  with  barely  vision  enough  to  excite 
our  curiosity  and  lead  us  to  grope  and 
struggle  for  more  knowledge.  All  the 
wisdom  that  the  greatest  of  men  could 
acquire  was  but  the  smallest  of  beginnings 
and  the  faint  glimmering  of  the  dawn  of 
truth,  whose  full  day  must  come  in  this 
later  life. 

**  While  we  were  confined  to  that  little 
planet,  though  in  reality  but  one  among 
millions  and  millions  of  worlds,  it  seemed 
to  us  the  central  i)oint  of  all  the  universe, 
f(»i  wliieh  the  rest  was  made  to  minister, 


IN  THE  OTHER  WORLD.  43 

and  we  were  wont  to  speculate  whether 
that  embryonic  existence  of  ours  were  not 
all  that  creation  was  made  for  ;  whether 
the  rest  of  the  universe  of  which  we  had 
a  glimpse,  was  intended  for  anything 
but  an  illumination  of  our  nights  ;  and 
whether,  after  we  had  barely  struggled 
into  actual  being  through  that  state  of 
spiritual  gestation,  we  did  not  fall  into 
nothing  again, — as  if  all  this  grand  crea- 
tion were  but  the  freak  of  a  fantastic 
Being,  without  beneficent  purpose  ! 

"  Even  those  who  had  a  belief  in  im- 
mortality and  fancied  that  they  had 
attained  exalted  ideas  of  the  Creator 
formed  from  their  feeble  conjectures  and 
their  hopes  systems  of  religious  faith 
which  contained  only  the  imperfect  germs 
of  the  real  truth  of  life  and  destiny. 
These,  however,  were  of  great  value 
to  mankind,  putting  in  form  the  high- 
est ideals  of  which  they  were  capable 
and  serving  as  a  nucleus  around  and  upon 
which  they  could  ever  continue  to  work; 
and,  as  they  gained   in    kn(^\vledge   from 


44  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

the  light  of  reason,  they  could  build  more 
and  more  beautiful  structures  of  faith, 
tending  toward  the  symmetry  and  grand- 
eur of  ultimate  truth. 

"  You  and  I  were  taught  in  our  child- 
hood to  think  of  a  place  set  apart  some- 
where in  the  skies,  as  the  home  of 
departed  souls, — a  far-off  kingdom  in  the 
heavens,  surrounded  perchance  with  walls 
like  an  imperial  stronghold,  and  the  abode 
of  winged  angels  and  of  the  disembodied 
spirits  of  the  just  and  good.  This  celes- 
tial realm  of  which  we  dreamed  was  a 
creation  of  the  imagination  of  devout 
poets  and  ardent  mystics  wrought  from 
glorified  elements  of  the  earthly  state.  We 
were  told  that  it  contained  fields  and  trees 
and  streams  to  delight  the  eye  and  ear, 
though  the  eye  and  ear  were  to  dissolve 
and  return  to  dust.  We  thought  of  it  as 
having  palaces  and  domes  built  of  the 
materials  with  which  we  were  familiar  in 
our  mortal  state,  though  these  were 
adapted  only  to  delight  through  the 
senses   that  must  depart  with  the  organs 


IN  THE  OTHER  WORLD.  45 

of  the  flesh.  It  was  impossible  for  us  to 
rise  to  a  conception  of  an  existence  above 
and  beyond  the  need  of  material  forms 
and  objects  to  minister  delight  to  the  soul. 
"  This  earth-like  heaven  we  conceived  of 
as  a  kingdom  in  the  skies,  with  orders  and 
regulations  modelled  after  the  govern- 
ments of  earth  even  in  its  ruder  ages  ;  as 
if  the  soul  were  not  to  attain  a  state  of 
intelligence  and  rectitude  in  which  abso- 
lute freedom  would  be  its  heritage.  The 
notions  we  were  taught  to  hold  of  the 
occupations  of  the  spirit  life  were  like  the 
fancies  of  childhood,  and  were  the  prod- 
uct of  the  childhood  of  the  race.  The 
noblest  conception  of  the  heavenly  state 
was  that  of  white-robed  hosts,  forever 
singing  praises  before  the  throne  of  a 
Sovereign  delighting  in  laudation  and 
glory  of  himself.  Singularly  childish  was 
the  idea  that  the  Creator  of  this  glorious 
universe  was  a  being  with  the  personal 
semblance  and  attributes  of  a  mighty 
monarch,  seated  upon  a  throne  to  receive 
a  constant    chorus    of   adulation     from   a 


46  BEYOXD  THE  BOURN. 

redeemed  race,  and  unending  demonstra- 
tions of  devotion  from  creatures  that  he 
had  made. 

"  Such  ideas  of  the  heavenly  Hfe  grew 
out  of  imperfect  knowledge  and  defective 
reason,  but  came  also  froin  a  sincere  long- 
ing for  a  state  of  divine  purity  and  perfec- 
tion. They  were  typical  of  the  complete 
submission  and  unremitting  worship 
which  in  human  life  were  felt  to  be  neces- 
sary to  the  attainment  of  a  condition  of 
enduring  holiness,  and,  though  wrought 
from  the  visions  of  devout  dreamers, 
became  sanctified  to  the  hopes  and  aspira- 
tions of  generations  of  mankind.  At  the 
touch  of  fuller  knowledge  and  sounder 
reason  they  fade  into  a  myth,  but  only  to 
give  way  to  higher  conceptions.  Now 
that  }'ou  have  come  to  the  reality  you 
will  Icarr-  how  far  it  is  from  the  fancies 
of  mankind  in  their  unenlightened  days." 


IV. 

"THE   LIFE   INDEED." 

My  friend's  discourse  was  carrying  my 
thoughts  back  to  earth  and  the  errors  in 
which  the  "  little  lives  of  men  "  arc  spent, 
while  I  wished  rather  to  know  of  the  new 
life  into  which  I  had  so  suddenly  come. 
He  was  at  once  conscious  of  this  feelinof 
on  my  part;  but,  in  the  pause  which  it  had 
produced,  the  beloved  members  of  our 
family,  whom  we  had  left  in  another  part 
of  the  heavenly  space,  appeared  hovering 
about  us,  drawn  by  the  power  of  sym- 
pathy to  our  presence.  My  friend 
needed  no  questioning  from  them,  but  at 
once  explained  : 

"  Our  new-comer,  like  all  new-comers, 
wished  to  be  told,  first  of  all,  about  the 
glories  of  this  life  by  one  who  has  had 
some  experience  of  them,  and  as  he  ex- 


48  BEYOND   THE  JiOUKAT. 

pressed  surprise  at  finding  it  so  different 
from  the  heaven  of  liis  earthly  dreams,  I 
was  beginning  to  point  out  the  errors  into 
which  men  have  fallen  in  regard  to  their 
destiny.  As  all  this  has  become  familiar 
to  you,  we  had  retired  to  this  solitude  for 
the  initiation  of  his  soul  into  the  revela- 
tions of  the  life  indeed." 

"But  why  such  haste?"  responded  the 
sweet  voice  of  my  sister.  "He  will  now 
learn  for  himself,  and  as  his  spiritual  ex- 
perience advances  he  will  only  have  to 
turn  his  thoughts  back  to  understand  that 
life  on  earth,  with  all  its  errors  and  the 
problems  that  seemed  so  hard  to  solve. 
W'h}'  interrupt  our  present  joy  by  going 
back  to  it  now,  even  in  thought  ?" 

Here  our  reverend  sire  interposed. 
"  Aye,"  he  said,  "why  dwell  upon  the 
life  you  have  left  behind,  and  the 
errors  with  which  men  have  struggled 
and  are  still  struggling?  The  race  is 
hopefully  working  out  its  salvation,  and 
as  its  knowledge  widens  and  deepens,  and 
its     reasoning     powers      attain      greater 


"  THE  LIFE  INDEEOr  49 

strength  through  generations  of  study  by 
the  strongest  minds,  it  will  more  and 
more  come  into  the  light  of  truth  which 
leads  to  perfection. 

'*  But  now  give  your  thoughts  to  the 
life  into  which  you  have  come,  and 
learn  something  of  your  eternal  dwelling 
place.  It  is  all  this  infinite  space,  and 
the  disembodied  spirit  ranges  at  \\\\\ 
among  the  numberless  worlds  of  the  celes- 
tial realm.  It  finds  everywhere  beauty 
and  joy,  in  such  measure  as  it  is  capable 
of  receiving. 

"•  Do  not  imagine  that  eternal  happiness 
consists  in  eternal  idleness,  or  continually 
singing  praises  around  the  throne  of  an 
exalted  Sovereign  ;  it  is  found  rather  in 
the  constant  activity  of  the  spirit,  in  a 
realm  which  affords  it  unlimited  scope 
and  inexhaustible  fields. 

''  Death  is  only  a  departure  from  the 
apparatus  of  flesh,  which  w^as  necessary  to 
the  embryo  state  on  earth.  It  is  as  pain- 
less at  the  last  as  falling  asleep,  and  the 
awakening  is  in  a  new  sphere  of  life.      Of 


50  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

course  it  works  no  sudden  transformation 
of  character  and  no  instant  removal  to  a 
place  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  universe. 
As  the  soul  was  before  death,  so  it  is 
after,  but  freed  from  the  flesh  and  the 
feelings  and  desires  engendered  by  the 
necessities  of  the  flesh.  - 

^'  It  may  be  weighed  down  and  over- 
whelmed almost  to  numbness  and  obliv- 
ion by  the  derangement  or  decay  of  the 
mortal  vesture  before  the  final  dissolution 
comes,  so  that  it  appears  to  be  in  dark- 
ness and  eclipse,  but  when  at  last  it  is 
loosed  from  the  material  bonds,  it  rises  in 
its  full  vigor  and  assumes  all  the  qualities 
which  its  origin  and  earthly  experience 
have  given  it.  As  the  circumstances  of 
its  life,  its  parentage,  early  training,  edu- 
cation, its  own  labors  and  sufferings  on 
earth  have  made  it,  so  it  is  well  or  ill  pre- 
pared to  enjoy  the  universe  of  God.  But 
all  is  before  it,  infinity  of  space,  eternity 
of  time. 

''  Upon  what  is  it  to  exercise  its  powers, 
and  what  is  to  operate  upon  its  capaci- 


"  THE  LIFE  indeed:'  5 1 

ties  ?  The  infinite  state  of  being  !  We 
do  not  come  at  once  to  the  knowledge  of 
all  things,  but  must  learn.  With  untram- 
melled powers,  great  or  small,  as  the  life 
on  earth  has  left  them,  with  desires  lofty 
or  grovelling  at  the  beginning  of  the  spirit 
life,  according  as  we  have  acquired  or  cul- 
tivated them,  we  set  forth  on  the  life  un- 
limited. We  are  in  the  same  school  from 
whose  lowest  grade  we  have  come,  and 
the  subject  of  study  here  as  there,  is  the 
works  of  God  and  through  them  God 
himself.  Our  means  of  learning  only  are 
changed. 

"  We  were  taught  that  we  should  meet 
God  face  to  face,  as  mortals  on  earth  may 
meet  a  sovereign,  in  form  and  lineament 
Hke  themselves.  Nay,  God  is  spirit  even 
as  we  are  spirit ;  but  he  is  infinite  and 
fills  the  infinite  cosmos  with  his  sole  per- 
sonality, whereas  we  are  finite ;  and  can 
the  finite  comprehend  the  infinite  ? 

"■  In  this  life  the  soul  comes  into  closer 
communion  with  the  Creator,  it  learns 
more  and  more  of  his  works  and  thereby 


52  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

gets  truer  and  larger  ideas  of  him  ;  but 
He  is  an  everlasting  mystery,  of  which 
we  may  learn  more  and  more,  but  which 
we  cannot  wholly  comprehend  till  we  be- 
come infinite  in  knowledge  and  capacity, 
a  state  toward  which  we  ever  advance  but 
unto  which  we  never  attain.  All  the 
beings  in  the  universe  are  but  a  little  way 
advanced  from  the  beginning  of  this  great 
lesson.  The  difference  between  the  latest 
comer  and  the  first  man  that  lived  is  not 
great,  compared  with  what  lies  beyond. 

''  Here,  then,  we  learn  ;  and  behold,  how 
great  is  the  field  in  which  we  search  for 
knowledge !  All  these  worlds  and  s}'s- 
tems  which  man  on  earth  can  study  slowly 
and  painfully  through  rude  devices  of  his 
own  contriving,  are  open  to  us.  We  can 
study  them  freely,  in  their  motions,  in 
their  substance  and  their  contents.  We 
can  visit  them  at  will,  note  their  move- 
ments, their  size,  their  ingredients,  their 
populations  and  all  that  those  populations 
do. 

"  Think  you   that    the  little  planet  in 


"  THE  LIFE  indeed:'  53 

yonder  small  system  from  which  we  came, 
the  gem  of  God's  universe,  and  all  the 
rest  a  gorgeous  setting?  Nay,  these  mil- 
lions of  globes,  many  of  them  far  greater 
than  the  earth,  have  their  inhabitants  and 
their  marvels  of  nature  and  of  art,  and  as 
the  conditions  of  each  are  different  from 
those  of  the  others,  the  variety  has  no 
limit. 

"  What  we  have  learned  of  these 
worlds  in  the  short  space  since  we  came 
to  the  spirit  life  is  little,  but  we  have  vis- 
ited many,  and  the  more  we  see,  the 
greater  grows  the  marvel  at  the  variety 
and  extent,  beyond  all  mortal  conception 
a  million  times  multiplied,  of  the  Creator's 
works  and  the  powers  and  resources  of 
the  infinite  Spirit  which  creates,  and 
which  fills  and  sustains,  the  mighty 
cosmos !  It  is  one  of  the  joys  of  the  life 
eternal  to  study  these  works,  to  know 
fully  things  of  which  we  had  a  glimmer- 
ing notion  on  earth,  and  to  find  out  mat- 
ters of  which  we  had  no  conception 
before. 


54  BEYOXD  THE  HOURN. 

**  Not  only  have  wc  this  universe  to 
explore  and  study,  but  here  are  the  mill- 
ions of  disembodied  souls  with  whom  we 
live.  Not  intellect  alone  and  power  of 
gaining  knowledge  remain  to  us,  but 
affections  and  sentiments,  and,  above  all, 
that  which  on  earth  men  call  spirituality 
— which  here  is,  like  all  else,  far  more 
easily  active  than  under  the  hindrances 
of  the  flesh — the  native  spark  of  aspira- 
tion toward  pure,  sincere,  self-giving 
growth  to  noble  character.  The  brother- 
hood of  heaven  is  vast,  the  relationship 
of  its  members  infinitely  varied  in  kind 
and  degree.  The  communion  of  spirit 
with  spirit  is  intimate  in  proportion  as 
their  natures  are  congenial,  and  as  that 
communion  is  intimate,  so  is  the  joy  that 
springs  from  it  intense. 

*'  The  petty  passions  and  weaknesses 
that  belonged  to  the  flesh  are  gone,  and 
in  every  person  we  can  find  something  to 
give  us  new  and  wiricd  delight,  while 
with  some  the  joy  of  intercourse  is  ec- 
static.    There  is  here  ikj  sham,  no  decep- 


"  THE  LIFE  indeed:'  5  5 

tion,  no  concealment,  no  misunderstand- 
ing. Every  spirit  is  open  to  the  knowl- 
edge and  the  feelings  of  every  other,  and 
all  find  pleasure  in  association  according 
to  the  degree  of  congeniality.  The  sub- 
jects of  discourse,  if  communion  such  as 
you  are  now  experiencing  can  be  called 
discourse, — this  constant  interflux  of 
thought  and  feeling — are  infinite  and 
inexhaustible.  This  is  the  chief  joy  of 
spiritual  existence,  whether  in  the  body  or 
out  of  it,  this  interchange  of  thought  and 
feeling  and  the  expansion  and  exaltation 
that  come  from  it. 

''  Be  sure  that  here  we  have  our  be- 
loved ones ;  and  those  who  were  loved 
ones  on  earth  hold  the  first  place,  though 
our  affections  are  unconstrained,  and  fas- 
ten upon  every  object  fitted  to  receive 
them." 

As  the  paternal  spirit  paused,  again 
the  sister  spirit  took  up  her  sweet  refrain. 
*'  And  here,  too,  she  said,  the  ministry 
of  love  continues.  The  occasion  has  not 
ceased  for  helping  one   another,   for  sus- 


56  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

taining  the  weak,  reclaiming  the  way- 
ward, and  comforting  the  desolate,  but 
as  the  passions  that  pertained  to  the 
flesh  are  gone,  and  the  hard  conditions  of 
the  earthly  life  are  left  behind,  the  work 
of  love  and  helpfulness  meets  quick 
response  and  is  full  of  joy." 

'*  But,"  I  exclaimed,  "  is  there  no  place 
of  punishment  for  evil-doers,  such  as  we 
were  taught  to  fear  in  our  childhood  ?  " 

*'  Oh  I  that  terrifying  doctrine  of  a 
place  of  torment  I  I  can  almost  shudder 
now  at  the  recollection  of  it !  "  It  was 
the  serene  but  solemn  tone  of  my  mother 
that  uttered  this  exclamation,  and  for  a 
moment  it  continued,  like  a  voice  in  a 
revery.  "  Even  the  wickednesses  of  the 
intelligent  and  self-indulgent  were  the 
stumblings  of  those  afflicted  with  moral 
blindness,  which  a  long  training  in  this 
world  of  larger  light  may  gradually  heal. 
But  the  idea  that  the  poor  children 
born  in  ignorance  and  sin,  growing  up 
amid  surroundings  in  which  there  was 
no  good  influence;  or  the  neglected  and 


"  THE  LIFE  INDEEDr  5; 

untaught,  and  even  the  heathen  \\\  their 
mental  and  moral  darkness,  were  con- 
demned by  a  righteous  God,  ever  a  loving 
father,  to  terrible  torture  !  How  could  a 
human  being  with  a  soul  ever  believe 
it!" 

*'Ah!"  replied  my  friend,  "that  was 
one  of  the  many  cruel  superstitions  to 
which  men  were  subject  in.  time  of  little 
knowledge  and  imperfect  reasoning,  and 
which  were  perpetuated  by  solemn  sanc- 
tions for  their  deterrent  effects.  The 
human  race,  like  the  human  child,  has  to 
outgrow  its  superstitions,  and  its  child- 
hood is  long." 


V. 


THE   SECRET  OF   GROWTH. 

Here  again  the  reverend  father  of  our 
family  group  of  spirits  took  up  the  dis- 
course. 

'^  Right  and  wrong  on  earth,"  he  said, 
*'  are  but  relative  terms.  No  being  ever 
lived  on  that  sphere  who  knew  all  the 
truth,  and  it  can  hardly  be  said  that  any 
ever  did,  in  all  respects,  exactly  the  right. 
The  general  experience  of  the  race  has 
been  made  up  of  gropings  toward  the 
true  and  right,  and  wanderings  from  it. 
Every  approach  is  its  own  reward,  every 
departure  its  own  punishment.  The 
earthly  life  of  a  person  is  not  a  thing  com- 
plete, the  account  of  which  is  closed  up 
and  the  compensation  weighed  out.  It 
is  not  a  whole,  but  the  merest  beginning, 
and    the   start    that    some    make    before 


THE  SECRET  OF  GROWTH.  59 

death  is  goodly,  while  that  of    others  is 

scarcely  a  start  at  all. 

"The  Almighty  saw   fit    to    plant  our 

race   there,  surrounded   by  the    elements 
and  conditions  necessary  to   growth  and 
development,  and  then  he  allowed  it   to 
grow  and   to   struggle   toward  perfection. 
The  elements  and   conditions  were  those 
most  likely   in  the  great  seasons  of  eter- 
nity to  produce  the  best  fruit  at  last,  but 
in  the  beginning  there  must  needs  be  im- 
perfections   and    partial    failures.      Some 
spring    forth    at    once    with    vigor    and 
beauty,  others  languish  and  are  stunted  ; 
but  a  soul  once  struck  into  separate  be- 
ing from  the  Infinite,  is  immortal,  and  in 
the   eternal  years  of   God   shall    find  the 
genial    warmth    that    will    bring    it    into 
bloom. 

."Why  should  God  torment  the  crea- 
tures that  he  has  made  with  greater  pains 
than  their  own  misdoings  bring  as  their 
natural  result?  Every  misdoing,  every 
departure  from  the  right  and  true,  is 
followed     inevitably     by      penalty,      not 


6o  BEYOND  THE  BOURiY. 

measurable  by  the  standards  of  earthly 
advantage  and  disadvantage,  but  one 
that  has  its  due  effect  upon  the  soul, 
marring  its  powers  and  capacities  and 
sending  it  to  this  spirit  life  by  so  much 
unfitted  to  partake  in  its  joys. 

'*  A  soul  distorted  and  deformed  by  the 
experiences  of  earth,  is  an  object  of  pity, 
not  of  wrath,  and  here  it  is  taken  ten- 
derly in  charge  by  happier  spirits,  and 
everything  is  done  to  make  up  for  the 
disadvantages  and  misfortunes  of  the  life 
below.  Such  souls  find  their  punish- 
ment, if  punishment  it  may  be  called,  in 
their  power  to  see  what  they  have  lost, 
and  to  comprehend  what  they  might 
enjoy  but  do  not ;  but  before  them  lies 
the  eternal  life  with  its  wider  opportuni- 
ties and  its  greater  helps.  The  loss  may 
be  made  up  and  some  spirits  that  came 
here  from  utter  wretchedness  and  degra- 
dation are  now  among  the  most  resplen- 
dent and  joyous,  the  more  so  for  the 
sufferings  they  have  passed  through. 

^'  If  the  great  scheme  of  that   embryo 


THE  SECRET  OF  GROWTH.  6 1 

life  is  such  that  a  soul  may  come  into  it 
impressed  through  the  medium  of  its  birth 
with  bad  tendencies,  which  are  confirmed 
and    strengthened    by    surroundings    and 
experience,     with     no    good     influences 
brought  to   bear  to  overcome  them,  and 
that    soul     becomes    what    it    inevitably 
must  become  under  those  circumstances, 
does  it  not  thereby  suffer  a  terrible  pen- 
alty for  holding  its  place  in  the  world  and 
serving,  even  in  that  hapless  position,  to 
help  carry  out  the  general  plan  of  devel- 
opment; and  is  the  God  that  made  him  and 
put  him  there  to  be  offended  and  subject 
him  to  further  torture  to  satisfy  a  ''  divine 
anger"  ?     Is  anger  ever  divine? 

''  Nay,  rather,  will  not  the  poor  being 
that  comes  halting  hither  from  hard 
places  in  the  human  life  be  tenderly  cher- 
ished, taught  what  he  never  before  had  a 
chance  to  learn,  made  to  see  what  never 
before  came  to  his  blinded  vision,  helped 
to  gain  what  he  has  missed,  and  gradually 
brought  to  enjoy  the  bliss  intended  for  all  ? 
His  was  a  hard  lot  and  here  he  finds  com- 


62  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

pensation ;  for  his  bliss,  when  gained, 
seems  the  sweeter,  inasmuch  as  it  was 
gained  so  late  and  after  so  much  bitter- 
ness. 

"  That  notion  of  a  '  systematic '  and  eter- 
nal punishment  of  those  so  unfortunate  as 
to  wander  far  from  the  ri^^ht,  is  a  relic  of 
the  horrible  idea  of  God,  which  was  the 
conception  of  an  early  generation,  as  an 
all-powerful  Being  that  "becomes  enraged 
at  disobedience  to  his  commands,  and 
will  subject  to  the  torment  those  that 
dare  disregard  his  law. 

*'  The  figures  of  Oriental  speech,  the 
stern  doctrine  uttered  by  the  warning 
prophets  of  Ancient  Israel,  and  scraps 
of  the  mythology  of  Babylon  and  Persia, 
are  the  materials  from  which  apocalyptic 
writers  of  early  d;\ys  and  ardent  preachers 
of  later  time  wrought  the  horrible  hell 
in  which  souls  were  doomed  to  suffer 
endless  pains  in  eternal  fires.  The  mate- 
rial hell  of  fire  and  torment  was  one  of 
the  hideous  myths  of  the  superstitious 
ages,  sanctified  by  earnest  but   misguided 


THE  SECRET  OF  GROWTH.  6^ 

teachers  of  later  times.  It  had  deterrent 
horrors  only  for  the  ignorant  and  super- 
stitious,  since  the  disembodied  spirit  could 
not  suffer  from  darkness  and  fire,  from 
heat  or  cold,  which  operate  only  upon  the 
senses  of  the  flesh. 

"  The  worst  of  this  hideous  myth  was 
the  effect  it  had  upon  the  conception  of 
God,  making  him   a   monster   of  cruelty. 
Could  a  spirit,  infinite  in  goodness  as  in 
power,  devise  such  a  horrid  pit   for  such 
a  fiendish  purpose?     And  where  in  this 
goodly  universe  should  it  be  placed  ?  The 
superstitious  idea    of    heaven    and    hell 
would    put    them    both    outside  the  uni- 
verse, beyond  the  bounds  of   infinity,  and 
leave  all  that  is  or  can  be   in   existence  of 
no  use  or  value  through  eternity. 

''And  then  there  was  that  horrid  phan- 
tasm, the  Devil,  which  the  mind  of  man 
conjured  up  to  divide  the  empire  of  crea- 
tion with  its  Maker!  Rude  and  ignorant 
people  were  always  disposed  to  account 
for  wrongs  and  misfortunes,  real  or  seem- 
ing, by  attributing  them  to  the  workings 


64  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

of  evil  spirits.  The  old  Hebrew  race  on 
earth  was  more  free  than  most  primitive 
people  from  this  form  of  superstition,  and 
it  was  from  the  exile  in  Assyrian  and 
Babylonian  lands  that  the  Israelites 
brought  back  the  notion  of  an  adversary 
of  Jehovah.  It  was  derived  from  the 
Persian  mythology  of  Ormuzd  and 
Ahriman,  the  conflict  of  light  and  dark- 
ness, of  good  and  evil,  for  the  possession 
of  the  world  and  of  man.  Out  of  this 
borrowed  notion  of  Satan  and  the  dreams 
of  apocalyptic  seers  grew  the  fantastic 
devil-lore  with  which  Christianity  became 
disfigured. 

'*  A  place  of  everlasting  torment,  ten- 
anted by  evil  spirits  who  go  abroad 
in  the  world  tempting  and  enticing 
men  to  destruction,  was  a  product  of 
superstition  which  knowledge  and  rea- 
son alone  could  dispel.  Even  in  recent 
times,  when  large  numbers  of  Christian 
believers  have  thrown  away  the  self- 
convicting  absurdity  of  a  physical  hell 
for  spiritual  beings,  the  terrors  of  a  place 


TFIE  SECRET  OF  GROWTH.  65 

or  state  of  everlasting  spiritual  torment 
has  replaced  the  cruder  creed.  But  this, 
too,  is  as  foolishly  inconsistent  with  all 
the  '  fatherly  '  conceptions  of  the  Deity 
which  they  accept  from  the  teachings  of 
Jesus,  as  was  the  paradox  of  bodily  burn- 
ing for  a  disembodied  spirit. 

''On  the  earth  which  we  have  left,  the 
time  comes  on  apace  when  mankind  shall 
see  with  fuller  knowledge  and  clearer 
reason,  and  the  myths  of  the  later  theol- 
ogies shall  be  cast  out  like  the  outgrown 
superstitions  of  the  earlier  ages.  They 
have  been  cherished  long  because  of  the 
sanctions  of  ancient  faith  and  the  ten- 
dency of  generation  after  generation  to 
accept  the  beliefs  transmitted  from  the 
past  and  sanctified  by  the  wise  and  good 
in  their  time.  The  imaginations  of  men 
have  been  wont  to  regard  the  ancients 
and  the  fathers  as  if  their  wisdom  accu- 
mulated with  time,  whereas  the  present  is 
always  the  maturest  age.  The  ancient 
world  was  young.  The  modern  world  is 
older.     The  latest  result  of  man's  knowl- 


66  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

edge  and  thought  is  ever  nearest  to  the 
eternal  truth." 

*'  Doubtless,"  I  said,  "  men  arc  still  far 
from  the  truth  in  matters  of  physical  sci- 
ence and  philosophy  as  well  as  in  matters 
that  pertain  to  their  spiritual  relations?" 

"They  are  far  from  the  ultimate  truth," 
was  the  reply,  "and  they  can  never  reach 
it  under  the  limitations  of  the  earthly 
life.  Even  after  they  have  escaped  from 
those  limitations,  they  can  only  advance 
toward  it  with  ever-increasing  enlighten- 
ment. But  the  human  intellect  from  its 
first  awakening  began  to  grope  toward 
the  light,  and  the  spiritual  instinct  has 
constantly  struggled  toward  the  truth." 


VI. 

DISCOURSE    OF  A   HEAVENLY    SAGE. 

Just  at  this  point  in  the  discourse  of 
my  beloved  father,  we  became  keenly 
conscious  of  the  presence  with  us  of 
another  spirit  of  most  benign  and  vener- 
able aspect.  He  was  indeed  a  seer  among 
the  spirits  in  the  part  of  the  universe  to 
which  I  had  been  drawn  by  the  presence 
of  my  loved  ones.  He  had  been  a  dweller 
upon  the  earth  in  a  far  distant  time  and 
was  wise  above  his  fellows,  but  more  than 
2000  years  ago  he  had  left  his  mortal  state 
and  had  been  a  denizen  of  the  world  of 
spirits,  as  I  presently  learned.  Diffusing 
by  his  mere  presence  the  influence  of  be- 
nignant wisdom,  and  begetting  in  others 
a  profound  sentiment  of  respect  and  a 
desire  to  learn  of  him,  this  sage  of  the 
heavens  spoke  to  us ;  and  what  can  only 


68  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

be  characterized  to  earthly  understand- 
ing as  the  tones  of  his  voice  thrilled  our 
being  with  the  charm  of  immortal  music. 

"  My  children,"  he  began,  "  ye  are 
plainly  just  from  Earth  and  that  dim  life 
in  which  the  soul  begins.  Learn  from 
one  who  was  deemed  a  philosopher  there 
many  centuries  before  }ou  saw  the  light, 
and  in  the  interval  here — so  long  in  the 
computations  of  men,  so  brief  in  the  reck- 
oning of  God — has  still  explored  the  mys- 
teries of  life  with  unceasing  zest. 

*'  Think  not  that  ye  can  search  at  once 
the  Infinite  Soul  of  the  universe  and  un- 
derstand His  working  from  the  beginning. 
The  soul  that  was  first  rounded  into  a 
separate  being  in  the  chrysalis  of  flesh, 
and  first  let  loose  as  an  ever-living  spirit 
in  this  realm  of  endless  progress,  is  far 
from  comprehending  all  the  ways  of  God. 
In  Him  we  live  and  in  Him  we  grow  to 
larger  knowledge,  to  higher  wisdom,  to 
stronger  love  ;  but  to  infinite  capacity  the 
finite  being  can  never  reach. 

"  The   Infinite   Soul  made  not  the  uni- 


DISCOURSE  OF  A  HE  A  VENL  V  SAGE.       69 

verse.  He  is  the  universe.  It  is  wrought 
out  of  His  being.  Forth  from  his  crea- 
tive power  came  the  substance  of  all  the 
material  worlds,  and  in  that  substance 
wrought  the  power  that  gave  it  forth. 
According  to  the  laws  of  wisdom  and  of 
love  it  wrought,  whirling  into  form  the 
essence  of  the  worlds  to  be,  and  setting 
at  work  the  forces  that  should  impart  to 
them  the  all-pervading  life.  To  this  crea- 
tive energy  and  its  laws  of  action,  what 
was  duration — as  conceived  by  the  finite 
mind  ?  Through  the  silent  epochs  it  lived 
in  the  substance  which  had  been  evolved 
from  itself,  bringing  it  into  form  and 
order.  From  the  all-pervading  ether  the 
substance  was  brought  into  nebulous 
masses,  the  subtile  material  of  the  celes- 
tial systems  that  were  to  come. 

''  In  these  nebulous  masses  wrought 
with  force  of  heat  and  motion  the  untiring 
life,  and  they  took  form  and  grew  to  plas- 
tic substance.  Along  the  lines  of  plan 
and  purpose  still  wrought  the  soul  of  all, 
making   of    plastic     substance    suns   and 


70  BEYOND  THE  BOURiV. 

solid  worlds,  cast  by  force  of  heat  and  mo- 
tion into  form  and  order.  The  inform- 
ing life  on  lines  of  law  immutable  set 
spheres  and  systems  on  their  way,  and 
hung  the  universe  with  stars.  Not  all  at 
once,  as  with  touch  of  magic  wand  or  by 
theatric  fiat,  but  in  due  process  of  evolu- 
tion,— the  creative  Spirit  working  along 
the  laws  of  its  infinite  being  in  the  sub- 
stance it  had  made, — the  cosmic  universe 
came  into  orderly  being  and  activity. 

*'  From  plastic  form  to  solid  grew  the 
spheres,  with  wild  combustion  of  their 
elements  but  with  the  eternal  purpose 
working  through  all  their  ferment,  till  the 
conditions  of  the  coming  life  were 
wrought  upon  them.  Life  was  in  them 
moving  ever  towards  its  aim.  With  all- 
persistent  energy,  not  blind  and  headlong 
Force  from  naught  evolved,  but  the 
Soul  Divine,  in  might  and  wisdom  work- 
ing, brought  the  roaring  elements,  subject 
to  its  will  and  purpose,  into  harmonious 
interaction.  On  new-formed  worlds  the 
creative  spirit  wrought  by  thrilling  heat 


DISCOURSE  OF  A  HEAVENLY  SAGE.   /I 

in  proto-plasmic  slime,  and  infused 
vitality  to  bring  forth  living  things,  mon- 
strous plants  and  animals,  to  be  each 
other's  sustenance  and  prepare  the  way  for 
higher  forms  as  new  conditions  served. 

"  The  life  in  these  was  life  of  God,  the 
only  life,  by  methods  of  the  divine  will 
working  toward  its  mighty  end,  to  people 
the  universe  with  spirits,  offspring  of  it- 
self. Through  ages,  epochs,  aeons, —  the 
seasons  of  the  universe's  one  great  har- 
vest,— the  process  moved.  From  lower 
forms  the  divine  gestation  wrought  to 
higher,  till  worlds  were  clothed  with 
beauty  and  filled  with  life.  From  out 
each  other  generations  grew,  evermore 
tending  to  perfection,  each  becoming  ma- 
terial for  the  next,  in  one  creative  process. 
The  all-informing  Spirit  from  species 
wrought  to  species,  combining  forms  and 
forms  dividing,  evolving  qualities  and  it- 
self infusing  more  and  more. 

*' At  last  upon  the  earth,  whence  we 
have  come,  and  upon  other  spheres  in  his 
vast     universe,     the     all-pervading     God 


72  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

brought  forth,  from  generation  after  gen- 
eration of  lower  forms,  the  upright  shape 
of  man.  Towards  this  had  tended  all 
the  work  of  creative  energy.  The  In- 
finite Soul  had  wrought  to  embody  finite 
souls  and  impart  the  ever-living  spirit  to 
separate  beings  that  should  dwell  at  last 
and  dwell  forever  in  this  wide  realm  of 
space,  the  objects  of  eternal  and  un- 
bounded love  and  with  capacities  for  love 
unlimited. 

''  Nor  was  the  race  of  God's  children 
created  in  perfection,  or  the  soul  at  once 
imbued  with  the  Divine  Father's  attrib- 
utes. The  creative  spirit  that  from  form- 
less substance  evolved  the  worlds,  and  on 
the  worlds  the  forms  of  beauty  and  the 
abodes  of  life,  and  into  varied  forms  its 
own  life  infused,  still  wrought  in  men  to 
evolve  the  being  that  should  be  capable 
of  the  destiny  that  was  from  the  begin- 
ning creation's  purpose.  Through  all 
progressive  purpose  ran.  The  instincts  of 
life,  to  light  and  heat  responsive,  that 
first  appeared   in   plants,  rose  in  animals 


DISCOURSE  OF  A  HEAVENLY  SAGE.    73 

into  sense,  with  gleams  of  intelligence 
and  of  sentiment,  to  serve  the  ends  of 
their  being ;  and  still  these  instincts 
wrought  from  lower  on  to  higher  forms, 
till  the  spirit  was  lighted  at  the  flame  of 
growing  mind  and  stronger  feeling.  Gen- 
eration out  of  generation  came,  with  many 
a  lapse  of  living  unto  dead  and  extinc- 
tion of  the  taper-lights  of  starting  souls, 
until  the  flame  grew  self-sustaining. 

*'  Here  and  there  creative  power  set 
alight  a  torch  that  drew  souls  upward 
and  inspired  the  race  of  men  to  mighty 
strides  of  progress,  far  above  its  brutish 
origin.  Thought  began  its  work  within 
the  brain,  language  was  devised  to  carry 
it  on  from  brain  to  brain,  and  recorded 
history  set  up  its  monuments  that  time  to 
come  might  derive  aid  from  time  gone  by, 
and  man  could  make  his  way  toward  his 
destiny.  Did  God  recede  from  out  His 
work  and  leave  the  children  he  had  made 
to  stumble  onward  to  their  fate?  Nay, 
as  his  all-pervading  spirit  had  been  in  the 
void    heavens,    in    the  whirling  mass  of 


74  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

formless  substance,  in  the  evolving  worlds, 
and  in  the  clothing  life  thereon,  so  was  it 
working  still  in  the  race  of  man  to  bring 
it  to  perfection. 

*'  Upon  our  little  earth,  what  has  his- 
tory been,  and  what  experience,  but  the 
growth  of  men  through  processes  of  evo- 
lution, wherein  the  revelation  of  God  is 
to  be  read  with  ever-growing  clearness  ? 
As  in  the  process  of  evolving  man  from 
beast,  the  incipient  soul,  the  flickering 
spirit,  in  the  mere  flame  of  vital  force  in- 
volved, lapsed  into  extinction  with  the 
body's  death,  serving  but  to  kindle  the 
generations  to  a  higher  glow  until  the 
soul  could  live  apart  from  physical  life,  so 
hath  God  still  wrought  within  the  race  of 
man  to  bring  forth  perfect  souls,  off- 
spring of  himself  and  fit  to  abide  with 
him, — objects  of  infinite  love,  which 
wrought  through  all  to  this  sole  end. 
Immortal  spirits  by  process  of  selection 
and  survival  from  this  human  race  have 
sprung,  and  ever  it  tends  to  rise  to  where 
all  its  souls  shall  that  degree  attain  of  free- 


DISCOURSE  OF  A  HEAVENLY  SAGE.    75 

dom  from  the  brute  and  from  the  long 
inheritance  of  death,  by  which  they  can  live 
apart  from  flesh  and  sense, — that  family 
of  the  Eternal  God,  for  which  creative 
power  hath  been  exerted  through  all  the 
ages. 

"  This  orderly  evolution,  which  is  the 
Divine  method,  the  progressive  effect  of 
the  Infinite  Mind  seeking  its  constant 
aim,  producing  creative  results  through 
laws  that  finite  minds  can  grasp  and  rise 
upon,  is  not  yet  complete  on  that  small 
planet,  where  we  erstwhile  dwelt,  nor  in 
the  universe  at  large.  Behold  the  little 
way  that  man  has  crept  from  his  ancestral 
brute,  save  the  few  high  souls  that  have 
received  God's  light  to  diffuse  among 
their  kind  1 

"  See  how,  at  the  dawn  of  recorded  his- 
tory, the  brutish  instincts  still  prevailed, 
and  passions  derived  from  the  animal  life 
and  meant  to  spur  it  on  to  higher  devel- 
opment, overcame  the  qualities  of  the 
struggling  soul.  Man  saw  in  wind  and 
storm,  in  light  and  dark,  and  in   the   pro- 


76  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

cess  of  earth's  elements  his  God,  and  in 
terror  made  Him  one  or  many,  in  imagina- 
tion compassed  round  with  invisible  pow- 
ers benign  or  malignant ;  but  the  serene 
Soul  that  wrought  in  love  and  wisdom 
was  to  him  unknown.  Man  cast  into 
forms  visible  or  fanciful  the  gods  he 
feared,  and  worshipped  them  in  dread,  not 
love,  to  turn  away  their  wrath  or  gain 
their  favor.  From  his  own  dim  soul  he 
made  a  soul  to  him  divine,  gave  it 
the  passions  of  his  body  and  called  it 
God.  Hence  gross  or  fierce,  man's  earli- 
est deity. 

''  Then  how  raged  the  passions  of  the 
incipient  soul,  tumultuous  qualities  of  an- 
cestral brutes,  mingling  in  overwhelming 
force  with  the  Spirit  Divine  now  making 
way  in  man  !  From  this  creative  ferment, 
— the  process  still  from  which  the  perfect 
race  should  spring, — came  bloody  wars, 
the  rise  and  fall  of  states,  destruction  of 
races,  and  new  races  rising  forth  to  greater 
heights,  and  all  the  while  men  made  their 
gods  in  image  of  themselves,  and  in  them 


i.. 


DISCOURSE  OF  A  HEAVENLY  SAGE.    J  J 

worshipped    themselves  to  godly  stature 
magnified. 

"  Yet  in  the  growing  race  'twas  God  that 
wrought,  his  spirit  more  and  more  infus- 
ing into  the  souls  of  men,  and  brineino- 
more  and  more  the  heart  into  subjection. 
It  was   evolution   still,  the  eternal  Spirit 
working    in    material    substance    toward 
Its  destmed  end,  to  bring  immortal  souls 
into  separate  being,  and  establish  mutual 
love    between    the    infinite  Soul   and  its 
myriad    offspring.     'Twas    more  of    God 
within    man's    soul    that    raised    one   or 
another  o'er  his  fellows    and    made   him 
leader,    teacher,    prophet,    to    bring    his 
people  up  to  higher,  grander  and  purer 
light. 

''  One  while  and  in  one  region  of  the 
earth  arose  in  man  the  spirit  of  conquest 
and  of  power,  developing  the  force  to 
overcome  and  bring  into  subjection  to 
the  will.  Another  while  and  otherwhere 
pervailed  the  spirit  of  law  to  bring  into 
order  and  safe  system  the  body  politic 
and  social;  from  this  came  ever-growing 


78  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

germs  of  just  and  stable  government. 
Again,  arose  the  intellect  to  lofty  flights 
in  thought  and  reason,  reaching  after 
wider,  deeper  knowledge  and  higher 
truth  ;  and  love  of  beauty  and  of  sym- 
metry sought  expression  in  works  of  art 
and  skill,  emulating  the  great  Creator's 
handiwork.  Again,  the  Divine  spirit  that 
wrought  upon  the  earth  inspired  a  people, 
for  that  end  chosen,  with  sentiments  of 
pure  love  for  parent  and  child,  for  kin  and 
race,  for  the  Power  above  but  dimly  known 
and  felt,  and  instilled  the  sense  of  rever- 
ence and  obedience.  From  this  sprang 
family  love,  the  patriot's  ardor,  and  puri- 
fied affection,  with  sense  of  right  o'er- 
mastering  the  tendency  to  wrong.  Still 
wrought  the  striving  soul  to  overcome 
the  brute  in  man,  the  inheritance  of  the 
primal  stage. 

''  As  elements  of  the  growing  race 
developed  thus  in  varied  time  and  place, 
the  period  of  their  commingling  came, 
and  ere  the  contact  of  ingredients,  attrac- 
tive and  repellent,  was  brought  about  for 


DISCOURSE  OF  A  HEAVENLY  SAGE.    79 

the  fierce  ferment,  within  the  bosom  of 
the  mass  arose  the  sweet  leaven  of  self- 
denying  love  and  of  the  devotion  of  one 
to  other's  good,  which  through  long  tur- 
moil of  conflict  should  ever  spread  with 
regenerating  force,  to  bring  at  last  the 
good  and  pure  to  mastery  of  the  powers 
of  ill, — not  ill  in  God's  great  plan  but 
incidental  ill  to  man  in  process  of  his 
growth. 

''  Lo !  through  generations  still  the 
ferment  eoes.  From  its  commotion  have 
nations  sprung  to  greater  height  from 
other  nations'  ruin,  and  institutions 
grown,  sloughing  off  the  old,  outworn 
devices  of  a  weaker  time,  and  with  vital 
energies  of  the  rising  race  adapting  all 
to  newer  needs.  The  intellect  of  man, 
inventive  and  contriving,  or  in  reflection 
calmly  reasoning,  with  ever  growing  zeal 
seeks  for  knowledge  and  for  power  to 
serve  his  race  and  make  all  forces  minis- 
ter to  its  wants.  But  also  grows  the 
sense  of  right,  the  love  of  beauty  and  of 
truth,    the     aspiration     for     the    higher 


So  BEYOMD  THE  BOURN: 

state  to  which  the  soul  hath  felt  itself 
the  destined  heir  since  first  divinity 
became  a  conscious  element  within  its 
depths. 

''  On  many  spheres  the  contest  still 
goes  on,  with  varied  strides  of  progress, 
the  contest  through  which  the  embodied 
spirit  surmounts  the  impulses  of  the 
flesh,  derived  from  that  long  ancestry 
of  the  brute  through  which  the  soul  has 
climbed  and  grown  in  power  till  fit  to  be 
let  loose  for  life  without  the  flesh.  A 
contest,  viewed  by  the  finite  mind,  but  in 
truth  no  contest,  for  in  all  is  but  the 
steady  working  of  the  one  great  Soul,  to 
the  end  of  peopling  heaven  with  its  off- 
spring. Nor  deem  that  perfection  yet  is 
reached  when  souls  are  born  to  heavenly 
life  through  throes  of  death  from  forth 
the  dark  gestation  of  the  earth.  'Tis 
life  begun,  not  finished." 


VII. 

LIFE    ON    A    DISTANT    SPHERE. 


The  thrilling  influence  of  the  benign 
spirit  ceased  and  the  glow  of  his  presence 
was  withdrawn.  From  one  to  another 
among  our  congenial  group  the  vibrations 
of  his  wisdom  passed,  begetting  reflec- 
tions that  were  as  fully  reciprocal  as  if  we 
had  made  them  subject  of  discussion.  In 
this  soothing  contemplation  of  the  mean- 
ing of  the  message  and  this  silent  commu- 
nion of  sympathetic  souls,  we  reposed  as  it 
were  upon  beds  of  invisible  and  impalpable 
down,  until  at  length  my  thoughts  were 
diverted  to  the  vast  array  of  worlds  and 
systems  that  make  up  the  material  uni- 
verse, discernible  to  the  spiritual  vision  in 
all  its  limitless  extent.  Half  musing  I 
inquired  :  *'  And  all  these  rolling  spheres 
that  circle  around  their  many  suns,  are 


82  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

they  peopled  with  beings  like  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  earth?" 

It  was  not  so  much  an  inquiry  de- 
manding answer  as  an  expression  of  won- 
der, but  my  beloved  friend  promptly 
replied :  *'  Those  myriad  spheres  are  at 
various  stages  of  development  and  decay, 
from  the  nebulae  seething  with  the  germs 
of  life,  to  the  worn  out  planet  lapsing 
into  its  original  elements  through  the 
exhaustion  of  the  forces  of  light  and 
heat.  Upon  many  of  them  are  races  of 
people  like  the  inhabitants  of  earth  in 
being  the  creatures  of  the  same^-  God, 
owing  the  same  duties  to  themselves  and 
to  Him,  but  in  each  world  they  differ  in 
their  surroundings,  in  the  conditions  of 
life  and  the  degrees  of  progress  which 
they  have  made  in  working  out  their  own 
perfection, 

*'  There  is  one  world,  remote  from  that 
part  of  the  heavens  in  which  our  mortal 
existence  was  passed,  which  I  chiefly  love 
to  visit.  I  came  upon  it  in  one  of  the 
explorations  which  I  am  fOnd  of  making 


LIFE  ON  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.         83 

among  the  distant  spheres,  and  was  at- 
tracted by  its  likeness  to  a  larger  and 
more  perfect  earth.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  tJicre  was  what  philosophers  had  so 
long  dreamed  that  human  life  might  be, 
after  ages  more  of  experiment  with  dimin- 
ishing failure  and  growing  success, — a  sort 
of  ideal  state  in  which  man's  mastery 
over  nature  and  over  himself  had  become 
well-nigh  complete.  I  will  not  attempt 
to  tell  you  of  this  world  and  the  state  of 
its  people,  but  you  shall  see  for  your- 
self." 

Then  with  no  other  effort  than  the  ex- 
ercise of  volition,  our  whole  group,  almost 
wrapped  in  each  other's  being,  like  a 
single  soul,  removed  from  where  we  had 
been  reposing  in  the  ethereal  solitude,  and 
glided  through  the  heavens,  swift  or  slow 
as  the  spirit  willed.  We  were  conscious 
of  the  passage  of  other  spirits  on  various 
journeys  and  of  groups  reposing  in 
bowers  that  would  be  invisible  to  eyes 
of  flesh,  but  to  the  spiritual  vision  were 
resplendent  with  beauty. 


84  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

We  passed  worlds  and  systems  of 
worlds  until  at  last  we  drew  near  a  planet 
that  revolved  with  others  around  one  of 
the  brightest  suns  of  the  firmament,  but 
one  which  no  optical  instrument  had  ever 
brought  within  the  ken  of  mortals  on  the 
earth.  When  we  reached  the  soft  atmos- 
phere that  wrapped  this  world  about,  we 
paused  and  glided  slowly  over  it  as  it 
floated  calmly  on  its  way. 

It  was  a  globe  of  about  twice  the  diam- 
eter of  the  earth,  similarly  situated  with 
reference  to  its  sun  and  having  similar 
motions,  but  with  longer  days  and  sea- 
sons. About  it  hung  twelve  moons  of 
different  sizes  and  at  different  distances. 
From  the  surface  of  the  planet  these 
seemed  to  occupy  different  parts  of  the 
sky,  and  as  they  reflected  the  light  of  the 
sun  in  their  various  positions  were  in  dif- 
ferent stages  of  change  and  therefore 
diverse  in  apparent  shape.  The  heavens, 
seen  through  the  soft  and  lucid  atmos- 
phere, were  wonderfully  rich  in  bright- 
ness and  glory,  and  must  have  exerted 


LIFE  ON  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.         85 

a   peculiarly  exalting    influence    on    the 
people  of  that  happy  sphere. 

As  we  came  nearer,  I  observed  that 
the  surface  of  the  planet  was  made  up  of 
land  and  water  in  varied  forms.  There 
were  mountains  and  valleys  and  plains, 
oceans  in  which  the  land  seemed  to  be 
floating,  lakes  and  streams  like  glittering 
gems  and  shining  bands.  Hence  there 
were  clouds  and  rain  and  storm. 

Then  I  thought  of  the  words  of  the 
heavenly  seer  and  clearly  saw  that  all  the 
worlds  were  of  one  substance,  similar 
combinations  of  the  same  elements,  on 
which,  under  the  effect  of  heat  and  mo- 
tion in  their  multitudinous  forms,  similar 
varieties  of  life  had  been  engendered.  I 
understood  how  in  the  far-off  beginning 
they  had  been  one  mass  in  which  the 
creative  Spirit  began  its  work,  that 
work  going  on  through  aeons,  which  to 
God  are  as  nothing  and  to  man  as  an 
eternity  ;  the  substance  was  thrown  asun- 
der by  centrifugal  force  and  distributed 
in  separate  masses  through  infinite  space, 


86  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

and  these  in  due  time  subdivided  into 
worlds  and  systems. 

I  seemed  to  follow  the  great  process,  as 
in  the  silent  ages  through  the  lonely 
heavens  the  creative  Spirit  w^'ought,  as 
these  worlds  were  fitted  for  organic  life, 
and  as  organic  life  began  upon  them.  I 
saw  the  conditions  of  the  worlds  change 
under  the  operation  of  this  mighty  power 
at  work  through  them  all,  new  and  higher 
forms  of  life  appearing  until  the  sentient, 
thinking  being  sprang  forth — a  newborn 
intelligence,  an  individual  soul  emanating 
from  the  great  pervading  Soul  of  all,  and 
immortal  as  Itself. 

My  companions  were  aware  of  these 
thoughts,  and  my  friend  recalled  me  from 
my  speculations  to  the  object  of  our 
visit. 

*' The  beings  that  inhabit  this  world," 
he  said,  '*  seem  to  have  had  more  favorable 
conditions  and  a  longer  experience  than 
the  race  to  which  we  belonged.  At  all 
events  they  are  much  farther  advanced 
toward  a  perfect  state. 


LIFE  ON  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.         8/ 

"  Their  early  history  is  involved  in  ob- 
scurity like  all  other  early  history,  and 
what  they  have  of  it  themselves  is  mixed 
with  vague  traditions  and  conjectures. 
To  the  Divine  Mind  it  is  all  clear,  but  we 
finite  spirits  can  only  study  what  is,  and 
reason  back  to  what  was  and  forward  to 
what  will  be." 

We  glided  about  this  globe  with  the 
quickness  of  thought  but  with  a  celerity 
and  accuracy  of  perception  which  enabled 
us  closely  to  note  its  appearance  and  pe- 
culiarities. I  saw  that  the  people  had 
completely  overcome  the  obstacles  of 
nature  and  established  means  of  commu- 
nication over  its  entire  surface.  The 
contour  of  land  and  water  was  such  that 
at  some  point  or  other  the  continents  ap- 
proached each  other  within  a  few  miles. 
Near  these  narrow  straits  the  climate 
might  have  been  forbidding  and  the  na- 
ture of  the  country  originally  inhospitable, 
but  the  appliances  which  the  people  had 
brought  to  bear  in  the  course  of  long  gene- 
rations had  overcome  these  disadvantages. 


88  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

No  parts  of  the  planet  were  given  up 
to  wilderness  or  desert,  but  labor  had 
brought  the  wilderness  into  subjection 
and  made  the  desert  like  a  garden,  to  minis- 
ter to  the  wants  of  the  people.  Art  had 
also  been  used  to  moderate  the  extremes  of 
climate  and  to  protect  the  person  from 
their  effects,  so  that  every  portion  of 
that  globe  was  accessible  and  serviceable 
to  its  inhabitants.  Every  part  was  made 
to  minister  to  every  other  part  by  means 
of  rapid  and  constant  intercommunica- 
tion. 

The  people  had  by  long  study  acquired 
a  complete  knowledge  of  the  outlines 
and  the  heights  and  depressions  of  the 
land,  whether  above  the  water  or  in  the 
depths  of  the  sea,  and  along  all  convenient 
lines  were  roads,  on  the  surface,  through 
mountain  ranges,  over  rivers,  straits  and 
lakes,  or  under  the  ground  or  water, 
according  to  requirement.  Roads  for 
travel  and  for  freight  transportation  were 
separate,  and  on  each  were  cars  or  car- 
riages exactly    fitted    for   every   purpose 


LIFE  ON  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.         Sq 

and  every  convenience,  and  propelled 
with  such  velocity  that  the  circuit  of  the 
planet  could  be  compassed  in  a  single 
day. 

On  these  lines  of  communication   the 
people  and  their  merchandise  passed   to 
and    fro   constantly.     Oceans   caused  no 
delay,  for  these  roads  ran  to  the  narrow 
passages  and  crossed  them  by  bridge  or 
tunnel  without  interruption.    The  bottom 
of  the  ocean,  too,  in  its  widest  part,  was 
traversed    by    the   travelling   devices    of 
these  people,  their  ingenuity  having  con- 
trived   such   swift    means   of  locomotion 
and  such  effectual  methods  of  supporting 
life   beneath   the   water,    that   even    thit 
great  obstacle  had  been  overcome. 

I  learned  from  my  friend,  who  had 
often  visited  this  world,  that  all  the 
forces  of  nature  had  been  pressed  into 
service  to  supply  the  most  effective  mo- 
tive power.  Not  only  electricity,  but 
also  the  expansive  force  of  many  solid, 
liquid  and  gaseous  substances,  the  force 
of  gravitation,  power  of  their  solar  light, 


90  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

the  motion  of  the  planet  itself,  and  all 
the  active  powers  of  the  elements  had 
been  harnessed  to  the  engines  of  this 
wonderful  people. 

But  their  travel  was  not  confined  to 
the  solid  ground.  The  surface  of  the 
water  was  traversed  for  purposes  of  pleas- 
ure and  of  traffic  in  vessels  fitted  with 
every  convenience  for  comfortable  living 
and  such  perfect  apparatus  and  safe- 
guards that  danger  was  never  thought  of. 
These  vessels  moved  swiftly  or  slowly 
like  living  things  controlled  by  the  will  of 
the  navigator. 

Not  only  the  land  and  the  sea  bore 
the  people  hither  and  thither  with  won- 
derful speed,  perfect  safety  and  exact 
precision,  but  the  air,  too,  w^as  filled  with 
vessels  that  seemed  to  fly  like  animated 
creatures.  Single  persons  were  borne 
about,  hundreds  of  feet  above  the  ground 
in  all  directions  by  a  simple  contrivance 
that  sped  like  a  bird  whithersoever  the  oc- 
cupant directed  it,  and  large  companies 
sailed  in  gay  aerial  ships  that  obeyed  their 


LIFE  ON  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.         9 1 

pilot's  wish  as  to  speed  and  direction,  and 
went  over  mountain-tops  and  seas. 

Not  only  in  temperate  and  tropic 
climes  did  these  vessels  ply,  but  they 
passed  over  frozen  seas  and  lands,  disem- 
barking their  passengers,  if  they  so  willed, 
among  the  icebergs  at  the  very  poles. 
Everywhere  they  carried  devices  adapted 
to  the  place,  heating  or  cooling  the  at- 
mosphere, keeping  off  moisture  or  reliev- 
ing dryness,  according  to  the  require- 
ments of  the  case. 

My  friend  told  me,  moreover,  that  they 
had  burrowed  beneath  the  surface  of  the 
ground,  travelling  to  and  fro  in  its  depths 
and  sending  merchandise  long  distances 
through  subterranean  tubes  with  mar- 
vellous  speed. 

Besides  all  these  methods  of  swift 
travel  they  had  a  complete  system  for 
the  communication  of  speech  over  all  the 
surface  of  the  planet,  so  that  messages 
could  be  sent  in  an  instant  from  one  point 
to  another,  however  far  apart.  All  lines 
for  the  transmission  of  messages  were  be- 


92  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

neath  the  surface  or  within  the  buildings, 
so  that  the  apparatus  did  not  attract  the 
eye  or  stand  in  the  way,  and  instruments 
connecting  with  tliem  were  in  every 
house.  The  ingenuity  of  the  people  had 
overcome  every  obstacle  to  freedom  of 
movement  and  communication,  and  they 
had  become  one  great  brotherhood,  con- 
stantly mingling  together  and  in  close 
association  to  the  very  limits  of  their 
world.  They  understood  how  com- 
pletely their  interests  were  one,  and  every 
clime  and  land  ministered  freely  to  every 
other,  exchanging  products  and  advan- 
tages of  every  kind. 

There  was  but  one  language  spoken, 
and  that  was  formed  and  perfected  in  the 
process  of  ages  from  the  choicest  ele- 
ments of  all  the  tonsfues  that  had  ori«-in- 
ally  come  into  use  in  various  regions,  and 
therefore  was  the  most  consummate  me- 
dium for  expressing  thought  that  thought 
itself  could  devise. 

Observing  still  more  closely,  we  could 
see   that   the   same   ingenuity  which   had 


LIFE  ON  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.         93 

devised  such  perfect  means  of  travel  and 
transportation  had  been  able  to  utilize  all 
the  resources  and  forces  of  nature  in  sup- 
plying the  wants  of  the  people.  Every 
clime  and  every  land  was  devoted  to  the 
labor  and  the  production  for  which  it  was 
best  adapted,  and  means  were  used  to 
extract  from  each  the  richest  results, 
without  wasting  its  strength.  The  soil 
was  made  to  yield  up  its  best  treasures 
freely.  Where  there  was  too  much  mois- 
ture means  were  found  to  remove  it ; 
where  there  was  not  enough,  it  was  sup- 
plied. The  temperature  was  regulated 
according  to  the  wants  of  the  farmer  or 
gardener,  and  he  was  the  master  and  not 
the  slave  of  the  elements.  All  his  work 
for  which  force  was  necessary  was  per- 
formed by  the  forces  of  nature.  He  only 
planned  and  directed,  furnishing  the  in- 
telligence needed  to  secure  the  best  re- 
sults. Each  locality  being  devoted  to 
the  production  of  those  things  for  the 
growth  of  which  it  was  best  fitted,  and 
every  appliance  being  used  to  obtain  its 


94  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

treasures  in  the  fullest  abundance,  there 
was  no  waste  of  effort,  and  these  riches 
were  constantly  distributed  and  inter- 
changed so  as  to  keep  every  want  of  all 
the  people  supplied. 

In  the  cultivation  of  the  soil  attention 
was  not  given  solely  to  fruits  and  grains 
to  satisfy  the  animal  wants,  but  every 
variety  of  trees  and  shrubs  and  flowers 
that  could  delight  the  eye  and  give  beauty 
to  the  landscape,  was  planted  and  fos- 
tered with  judgment  and  artistic  taste. 
Neither  did  industry  busy  itself  exclu- 
sively on  the  surface,  but  the  riches  of 
the  rocks  and  of  the  seas  were  made  ac- 
cessible. They  were  not  sought  with  the 
feverish  eagerness  which  prevailed  when 
they  were  found  with  difficulty  and  in 
meagre  quantities  ages  before,  for  now 
the  storehouses  were  opened  and  what 
was  wanted  could  be  had  at  any  time. 

Beneath  the  mountains  and  hills  were 
mines  and  shafts  cutting  through  the 
vaults  in  which  their  riches  were  hid,  and 
in  these  were  all  appliances  for  obtaining 


LIFE  ON  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.         95 

the  stores  of  gems  and  metals.  Those 
that  were  useful  in  the  manifold  arts  of 
life  were  in  constant  demand,  and  men 
were  at  work  getting  them  out,  but  no- 
body cared  to  accumulate  them  for  their 
own  sake. 

The  wealth  that  was  scattered  in  the 
caves  and  valleys  of  the  sea  had  also 
been  brought  within  reach.  The  depths, 
once  given  up  to  solitude  and  the  grisly 
monsters  of  the  under-world,  were  ex- 
plored by  the  active  beings  who  had  as- 
serted their  mastery  over  the  planet  and 
its  possessions.  They  had  appliances 
which  enabled  them  to  live  long  at  the 
bottom  of  the  oceans  and  to  travel  their 
depths  at  will ;  and  whatever  was  hidden 
there  that  could  serve  them  for  orna- 
ment or  use  they  sought  out  and  brought 
to  the  light. 

So  perfect  were  the  appliances  for 
travel  and  transportation  that  the  people 
were  distributed  over  the  face  of  the 
planet  exactly  in  accordance  with  their 
tastes  and  wishes,  for  whatever  any  one 


96  BEYOND  THE  BOURN: 

wanted  he  could  easily  obtain,  no  matter 
how  far  from  the  source  of  supply. 
While  concentration  and  co-operation  in 
the  various  interests  and  enterprises  of 
life  created  centres  of  business  and  of 
population,  there  were  no  densely  crowded 
cities. 

Wherever  the  convenience  of  com- 
merce or  any  other  consideration  placed 
these  centres  of  life  and  activity,  there 
the  markets  and  warehouses  were  clus- 
tered together  in  proximity  to  wharves 
and  depots,  which  were  furnished  with 
all  manner  of  mechanical  contrivances  for 
loading  and  unloading  merchandise  and 
transporting  it  from  point  to  point.  Very 
little  muscular  force  of  man  or  animal 
was  used  about  the  docks  and  storehouses, 
so  manifold  were  the  appliances  of  mech- 
anism. Every  building  was  exactly  suited 
to  its  purpose  in  location  and  character, 
and  there  was  no  interference  or  clogging 
in  the  broad  avenues. 

There  was  no  occasion  to  economize 
space,  since    in    moving   back   and   forth 


LIFE  ON  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.        9/ 

time  is  the  important  consideration,  and 
they  had  means  of  passing  long  distances 
in  short  periods.  Hence  there  were 
broad  spaces  about  all  the  buildings  and 
the  thoroughfares  were  ample,  giving 
perfect  freedom  of  movement.  Near  the 
depots  and  stores  in  concentric  circles 
were  all  manner  of  factories  and  shops  in 
which  every  article  that  the  people  might 
want  could  be  found,  but  no  dwellings 
were  placed  in  proximity  to  these  estab- 
lishments of  traffic.  Spread  for  miles 
around  along  diverging  avenues  were  the 
habitations  of  the  people,  each  occupy- 
ing ample  space,  with  fruitful  gardens 
and  shaded  walks  and  a  profusion  of  rich 
herbage  and  trees  and  flowers.  Each 
home  was  filled  with  comfort,  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  influences  that  refine  and 
elevate,  but  there  was  no  outward  sign 
of  luxury  or  extravagance. 

These  people  had  learned  generations 
before  that  there  was  no  true  happiness 
in  luxury,  no  enjoyment  in  parade  ;  and 
after  fierce  struggles  and  perverse  opposi- 


98  BEYOND  rtUi  BOURN. 

tion,  had  accepted  the  great  lesson  that 
the  results  of  the  united  labors  of  the 
community  belonged  of  right  to  that 
community  for  the  satisfaction  of  the 
rational  wants  of  every  member.  No 
man  was  regarded  as  having  any  right  to 
a  superfluity  while  another  was  in  need. 
That  great  lesson  once  learned,  poverty, 
ignorance  and  crime  soon  departed  from 
the  world,  for  enough  is  easily  obtained 
from  nature's  bounty  to  minister  to  every 
reasonable  need  of  body  and  mind.  And, 
poverty  and  ignorance  once  banished, 
crime  and  vice  speedily  disappeared. 

Another  beneficent  result  of  the  wis- 
dom attained  by  this  people  was  that 
there  was  no  longer  any  waste  of  labor. 
Every  individual  did  his  share  of  work, 
so  that  there  were  no  consumers  who  did 
not  help  gather  in  the  supplies,  no  drones 
supported  by  others'  work  :  neither  was 
there  any  throwing  away  of  the  products 
of  nature  and  of  labor  after  they  had 
been  obtained. 

In   their  old  barbaric  ages,  as   in   the 


LIFE  0/V  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.         99 

present  of  worlds  still  in  their  infancy, 
the  recklessness  and  wantonness  of  the 
people  were  constantly  destroying  their 
possessions.  Fire  was  allowed  to  burn 
them  up,  disasters  on  land  and  sea  swept 
them  to  fragments  and  to  nothingness, 
waves  devoured  them,  and  ignorance  was 
continually  throwing  precious  things  into 
heaps  of  rubbish. 

Now  there  was  no  rubbish.  Every- 
thing was  utilized  from  the  moment  it 
came  from  the  bosom  of  nature  till  it  re- 
turned thither  to  nourish  new  growths, 
and  nowhere  In  the  cycle  of  transforma- 
tion was  it  permitted  to  become  noxious 
or  useless.  Wholesomeness,  cleanliness 
and  beauty  accompanied  all  the  opera- 
tions of  nature  under  the  wise  direction 
of  man. 

Another  great  lesson  which  this  people 
had  learned  in  their  ages  of  experience 
was  that  it  was  folly,  absolute  and  with- 
out mitigation,  to  spend  all  one's  days  and 
wear  out  life  in  accumulating  what  can 
at    best   be  but  partially  used,   and    that 


lOO  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

only  as  a  means  of  promoting  the  real 
objects  of  existence. 

Those  things  which  in  the  rude  old 
times  were  treasured  as  wealth  and  held 
as  precious  for  their  ov/n  sake — what  were 
they  but  the  means  of  securing  the  con- 
ditions of  comfortable  life,  and  how  small 
a  share  could  one  man  profitably  use ! 
Yet  thousands  were  wont  to  toil  through- 
out their  lives  in  heaping  together,  what 
they  with  unconscious  irony  of  truth 
called  ''means,"  while  those  real  ends, 
for  which  the  means  ought  to  have  been 
used,  were  overlooked  and  forgotten. 
Not  only  did  those  who  made  themselves 
rich,  by  grasping  such  a  large  share  of 
the  gifts  of  nature,  multiply  their  own 
labor  and  trouble  without  benefit  to 
themselves,  but  they  were  engaged  in  a 
cruel  struggle  to  keep  those  gifts  from 
the  possession  of  others,  thereby  causing 
misery  to  their  fellow-beings.  Now  they 
had  learned  that  this  selfish  spirit  de- 
stroyed their  own  happiness. 

No  one  cared  longer  for  great  accumu- 


LIFE  ON  A  DISTANT  SPHERE.       lOI 

lations.  Every  one  had  all  he  needed  or 
desired,  and  used  it  to  secure  the  means 
of  real  happiness  by  promoting  the  de- 
velopment of  his  own  character  and  grati- 
fying his  noblest  tastes,  while  finding  it 
essential  to  his  happiness  also  to  see  that 
others  had  an  opportunity  of  doing  the 
same  thing.  The  real  purpose  of  life  was 
now  understood,  and  that  blindness  was 
no  longer  known  which  had  mistaken  the 
means  of  living  for  its  object.  To  supply 
all  the  actual  wants  of  the  people  re- 
quired but  a  small  share  of  the  time  and 
effort  of  each  individual,  devoted  to  that 
special  end. 

I  found  that  not  over  one-sixth  of 
everybody's  time  was  spent  in  productive 
labor.  In  the  system  of  industry  which 
brought  the  treasures  of  nature  from  her 
stores  to  the  places  and  the  persons  that 
needed  them,  and  in  the  form  and  condi- 
tion which  made  them  most  useful,  every 
person  took  his  part,  but  the  whole  work 
was  easily  and  fully  accomplished  by  the 
devotion    of    one-sixth   of    each   person's 


I02  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

time  to  the  work.  Every  one  did  a  cer- 
tain part  according  to  his  aptitude  and 
capacity  or  the  circumstances  of  his  Hfe, 
and  every  one  received,  with  all  the  pre- 
cision that  comes  from  obeying  the  laws 
of  nature  and  of  justice,  his  due  share  of 
the  results. 


VIII. 

PROGRESS   OF  A   PERFECT   RACE. 

Of  my  friend, — who  had  learned  much 
of  the  history  of  this  people,  not  only  by 
circulating  unseen  among  them  and  mak- 
ing those  rapid  observations  and  ready 
inferences  which  only  the  disembodied 
spirit  is  capable  of,  but  by  communion 
with  those  who  had  passed  their  mortal 
state  upon  that  sphere, — I  asked  by  what 
process  the  present  industrial  condition 
had  been  attained  ;  whether  through 
what  we  had  known  as  communism  or 
socialism,  or  any  other  device  of  public 
regulation. 

"  Nay,"  he  replied,  "  this  state  of  com- 
parative perfection  has  been  attained  by 
growth  and  development  in  individual 
character,  and  by  getting  into  practice, 
after  generations  of  experience  and  increas- 


104  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

ing  wisdom,  the  principles  of  justice  and 
beneficence  through  the  voluntary  co-oper- 
ation of  the  people.  Where  every  one  is 
willing  to  do  his  share  of  work  and  capa- 
ble of  understanding  what  his  share  is  ; 
where  each  one  is  content  with  his  share 
of  the  result,  and  where  all  are  ready, 
even  anxious,  to  give  others  an  equal 
chance  with  themselves  and  accord  to 
each  that  to  which  he  is  entitled,  there  is 
no  longer  any  ground  for  troubles  and 
difficulties.  Where  intelligence  and  an 
absolute  sense  of  right  prevail,  and  where 
personal  selfishness  is  displaced  by  a  de- 
votion to  the  general  good,  co-operation 
becomes  easy  and  effective  in  every 
branch  of  activity  and  between  different 
branches  over  the  widest  domain.  The 
methods  and  agencies  of  such  a  co-opera- 
tion are  readily  found  and  applied,  and 
they  work  with  the  harmony  that  neces- 
sarily  comes    from    obedience    to    moral 

1         ' ' 
laws. 

**  But,"  I  said,  "  capacities  being  differ- 
ent   and    employments  varying,  how  are 


PROGRESS  OF  A  PERFECT  RACE.     T05 

the  results  fairly  apportioned  ?  Surely 
each  one  does  not  receive  the  same  share 
of  the  products  of  the  common  labor." 

"  Surely  not,"  was  the  reply.  '*  You 
must  remember  that  the  state  of  things 
we  see  here  is  the  result  of  generations  of 
development  and  growth,  of  long  ages  of 
experience  and  discipline  in  the  virtues, 
but  through  it  all  has  wrought  the  spirit 
of  emulation  and  the  spur  of  a  stimulus 
to  effort.  It  has  not  produced  a  flat  level 
of  uniformity  in  these  beings  or  the  inan- 
ition of  a  life  devoid  of  motives  to  exer- 
tion. But  great  is  the  power  of  justice 
directed  by  intelligence,  and  mighty  is 
the  sway  of  the  principle  of  unselfishness, 
once  accepted  and  all-prevailing.  The 
men  who  form  the  vast  community  peo- 
pling this  beautiful  planet  vary  in  their 
qualities  and  capacities,  but  they  have 
learned  to  recognize  the  responsibilities 
and  obligations  of  their  varying  talents. 

"■  Through  their  voluntary  system  of  co- 
operation each  one  receives  a  share  in  the 
product    of    the    common    effort    exactly 


I06  BEYOXD   THE  noURiY. 

proportioned  to  his  part  in  the  work  of 
production,  including  all  the  processes  of 
distribution.  This  has  become  vcr)-  sim- 
ple and  easy  from  the  fact  that  every  one 
in  his  relation  with  others  fully  under- 
stands what  he  is  entitled  to  and  wdiat 
others  are  entitled  to,  and  every  one  is 
perfectly  satisfied  with  his  own  and  will- 
ing to  accord  to  others  that  which  is 
fairly  theirs.  The  ancient  contentions 
and  tribulations  were  due  to  selfishness 
and  ignorance,  and  the  thousand  wrongs 
that  flowed  from  them." 

"Then,"  I  said,  "  there  must  be  the 
rich  and  the  comparatively  poor  among 
these  people,  the  wise  and  the  compara- 
tively simple,  with  differences  of  station 
and  conditions  of  life." 

"■  Well,"  said  the  spirit,  with  serene 
gravity,  ''if  there  were  not,  what  would 
be  the  use  of  continuing  this  mortal  ex- 
istence upon  a  material  globe?  The  race 
might  as  well  be  disembodied  at  once, 
for  it  would  have  no  further  use  for 
this  material  field  of  effort  and  of  train- 


PROGRESS  OF  A  PERFECT  RACE.     \0J 

ing.  But,  long  ago,  those  of  superior 
capacity  learned  that  they  exercised  a 
stewardship  for  the  benefit  of  others. 
The  community  did  not  claim  or  seize 
the  products  of  labor,  skill  and  prudence 
to  hold  them  in  common  and  distribute 
them  equally,  thus  destroying  the  springs 
of  benevolence  and  the  motives  of  mutual 
helpfulness,  and  drawmg  the  very  life- 
blood  of  progress.  But  those  to  whom 
much  was  given  gave  much.  What  came 
to  them  as  the  result  of  superior  wisdom 
and  capacity,  they  turned  back  in  rich 
measure  upon  the  community.  Not  only 
did  they  see  justice  done  in  all  matters 
with  which  they  were  concerned,  but, 
where  need  was,  they  contributed  gener- 
ously to  mitigate  the  evils  that  came  from 
imperfect  conditions,  and  thereby  to  rem- 
edy those  conditions.  They  wrought 
wisely  with  their  means  and  their  ability, 
to  dispel  poverty  and  crime  and  suffering, 
to  suppress  the  evils  that  afflicted  their 
race  and  to  remove  the  causes  of  evil,  to 
educate,  to  enlighten  and  to  elevate. 


I08  BEYOND  THE  BOUKiV. 

"  It  is  largely  by  this  process — of  devot- 
ing wealth  obtained  by  individual  effort 
to  promoting  the  common  well-being — 
that  the  present  comparatively  perfected 
state  of  things  was  reached.  Fresh  from 
earthly  experience,  you  can  well  imagine 
that  the  process  was  long,  but  that,  once 
begun,  it  grew  constantly  easier  and  more 
rapid,  as  the  ratio  of  light  to  darkness 
increased.  So  long  as  there  were  wrongs 
to  be  corrected,  evils  to  be  remedied  and 
needs  to  be  supplied,  the  capable  gave  of 
their  efforts  and  the  rich  of  their  sub- 
stance in  a  beneficent  co-operation  for  the 
amelioration  of  the  race. 

"  For  a  long  time  now  this  plan  of 
beneficence  has  been  working  until  igno- 
rance, poverty,  wickedness  and  suffering 
have  been  exterminated,  by  no  system  of 
laws  and  regulations,  but  by  an  all-per- 
vading spirit  of  mutual  helpfulness  and 
generous  co-operation,  which  enforces  its 
own  decrees.  Like  every  great  result,  it 
has  come  through  growth.  All  are  main- 
tained in  comfort  and  ease  by  systems  of  in- 


PROGRESS  OF  A  PERFECT  RACE.     IO9 

dustiy  and  interchange,  gradually  devised 
and  voluntarily  carried  on,  and  regulated 
by  the  natural  principles  of  justice  and 
right-doing.  All  opportunities  are  made 
equal,  and  those  who  by  superior  capac- 
ity attain  a  large  share  of  wealth  make 
it  part  of  their  business  to  provide  for 
the  general  needs  and  for  the  embellish- 
ments of  life,  not  for  themselves  alone 
but  for  the  community  at  large,  seeking 
to  diffuse  with  wisely  directed  beneficence 
the  advantages  which  they  enjoy.  The 
difference  between  public  and  private  in- 
terests and  methods  is  well-nigh  oblit- 
erated by  the  constant  and  universal  ap- 
plication of  the  principles  of  unselfish- 
ness, and  all  see  how  much  better  off  and 
how  much  happier  they  are  for  it." 

As  our  family  party  of  celestial  visi- 
tants continued  to  explore  this  scene  of 
mortal  life  in  its  wonderfully  developed 
phases,  from  observation  and  the  com- 
ments of  our  guide  I  learned  more  and 
more  how  the  time  was  passed  by  these 
fortunate   beings.     As    I  have   said,   not 


no  BEYOND  THE  BOURM. 

more  than  one-sixth  of  the  hours  of  each 
day  were  devoted  by  any  person  to  his 
share  of  regular  labor.  The  rest  of  the 
time  was  spent  in  living.  It  was  divided 
by  old  and  young  in  due  proportions — 
not  by  regulation  but  by  natural  aptitude 
and  good  sense — between  repose  and  ac- 
tivity ;  including  study  and  the  acquisi- 
tion of  knowledge,  observation,  and  the 
interchange  of  thought  and  ideas,  rational 
sports,  and  pure  enjoyments.  It  was 
plainly  a  life  of  comfort  and  happiness 
from  which  the  taint  of  suffering  and 
sorrow  had    been  eliminated. 

For  purposes  of  education  there  were 
schools,  museums  containing  specimens 
of  all  products  of  nature  and  of  human 
skill,  art-galleries,  collections  of  all  things 
useful  or  beautiful.  During  the  hours  of 
each  day  devoted  to  education  these  ob- 
jects were  studied  and  made  familiar  in 
all  their  characteristics.  Libraries,  which 
were  the  daily  resort  of  the  people,  were 
filled  with  the  thoughts  and  the  wisdom 
of  the  great,  whether  living  or  dead,  but 


PROGRESS  OF  A  PERFECT  RACE.     I  I  I 

nothing  worthless,  nothing  which  was  not 
calculated  to  contribute  to  the  growth 
and  perfection  of  the  soul  was  admitted 
to  them.  In  fact,  long  ago  the  minds  of 
these  people  had  ceased  to  be  employed 
in  creating  worthless  literature,  and  what 
had  been  created  of  that  kind  had  fallen 
into  oblivion  and  gone  to  dust.  There 
was  no  longer  any  demand  for  such  pro- 
ductions. All  means  of  culture  were 
provided  by  the  people,  and  ever  open 
for  the  free  use  of  all. 

Every  appliance  that  could  be  devised 
for  the  promotion  of  the  health  and  hap- 
piness of  the  people — great  parks,  with 
their  walks  and  drives,  their  lakes  and 
fountains,  their  fields,  groves  and  bowers 
for  the  diversion  and  enjoyment  of  old 
and  young — had  been  provided  out  of 
the  wealth  of  the  community,  not  by 
any  public  levy  but  by  voluntary  contri- 
butions from  those  whose  incomes  were 
largest.  In  the  same  way  indoor  estab- 
lishments for  diversion  and  healthful 
sports  and  exercises,  and  for  all  manner 


112  BEYOND  THE  BOURN 

of  amusements  were  maintained,  and  still 
are  maintained,  by  co-operation  of  pri- 
vate means  and  efforts.  The  care  and 
management  of  all  such  appliances  for  the 
general  benefit  are  in  the  hands  of  com- 
petent persons  employed  by  the  associa- 
tions that  support  them.  There  is  no 
need  of  the  intervention  of  public  author- 
ity, which  indeed  hardly  exists  as  author- 
ity. 

"  But  can  it  be,"  I  asked  of  my  guide 
and  friend,  "  that  here  is  a  mortal  race 
which  has  outgrown  the  vices,  wrongs 
and  sufferings  still  so  familiar  to  human 
beings  on  the  earth?  " 

"  Almost,"  was  the  reply.  '*  Here  is  a 
people  in  which  all  the  primal  differences 
of  race  and  blood  have  become  blended 
into  a  common  brotherhood,  and  a  com- 
mon sympathy  and  sound  fellow-feeling 
have  taken  the  place  of  old  antipathies. 
Through  the  discipline  of  past  experience 
and  the  growth  of  wisdom  they  have 
learned  that  to  work  together  for  the 
general  good  is  the  best   means  of  pro- 


PROGRESS  OF  A  PERFECT  RACE.     1 1 3 

moting  the  individual  well-being.  They 
have  learned  to  conform  their  lives  to  the 
laws  of  nature  and  the  principles  of  right, 
and  thereby  they  avoid  the  ills  that 
spring  from  disease  and  misfortune. 

"  The  greatest  progress  toward  this 
state  of  immunity  from  what  used  to  be 
called  the  *  ills  of  life  *  was  made  when 
first  the  people  came  fully  to  appreciate 
the  importance  of  birth.  They  learned 
that  the  struggle  to  correct  inherited  ten- 
dencies and  innate  impulses  was  well-nigh 
futile,  and  saw  the  wisdom  of  a  sound  start 
in  life.  Hence  they  began  to  give  atten- 
tion to  pre-natal  influences  and  conditions, 
and  to  avoid  the  propagation  of  physical, 
mental  and  moral  defects.  A  few  gener- 
ations of  that  kind  of  prudence  wrought 
wonderful  results  upon  the  race,  and  what 
used  to  be  regarded  as  natural  depravity, 
— qualities  transmitted  from  a  far-off 
brute  origin, — rapidly  disappeared. 

"  As  offspring  became  the  result  of  ra- 
tional purpose  instead  of  blind  impulse, 
it  was  easier  to  train  it  to  a  wholesome 


114  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

development,  but  in  that  process  wisdom 
was  still  applied  at  every  step.  As  the 
intellect  and  moral  sense  opened  to  sur- 
rounding influences  they  were  wisely  and 
gently  directed,  and  children  almost  un- 
consciously formed  right  habits  of  con- 
duct and  sound  views  of  their  relations 
in  life.  The  animal  instincts,  once  so 
strong  and  so  prone  to  vice,  were  over- 
come by  the  careful  development  of 
higher  qualities,  and  evil  tendencies  were 
neutralized  and  progressively  excluded  by 
the  occupation  of  the  mind  with  noble 
thoughts  and  pure  sentiments.  Under 
the  process  of  wise  and  tender  parental 
training  the  old  anxieties  of  families 
were  displaced  with  unalloyed  domestic 
felicity. 

"  As  the  result  of  health  in  body  and 
mind,  produced  by  sound  birth  and 
wholesome  influences,  these  men  and 
women  are  exquisite  in  beauty  of  form 
and  feature,  and  buoyant  with  unvarying 
cheerfulness.  They  are  clad,  as  you  will 
observe,  in  simple  garments,  calculated  to 


FKOGRESS  OF  A  PERFECT  RACE.     I  I  5 

promote  their  comfort,  and  to  set  off 
rather  than  to  conceal  the  grace  and  sym- 
metry of  the  body.  They  long  ago  lost 
the  taste  for  artificial  adornments,  for 
when  physical  defects  had  been  overcome 
they  found  that  natural  beauty  was  far 
more  attractive  without  these." 

?Iere  I  suggested  that  with  us  on  earth 
unwise  or  imprudent  marriages  had  been 
the  cause  of  many  evils  difficult  to  deal 
with. 

''Yes,"  my  friend  replied,  ''and  this 
race  went  through  a  like  experience  in 
ages  past.  Before  ignorance  and  folly  in 
regard  to  such  all-important  relations  had 
been  overcome  by  enlightenment,  men 
and  women  were  incited  by  impulses  aris- 
ing from  their  physical  nature  to  unions 
in  which  wisdom  had  no  part.  Under 
the  sway  of  blind  passion  they  imagined 
themselves  fitted  for  happiness  in  the 
closest  and  most  exacting  of  all  relations, 
and  promised  to  love  and  cherish  each 
other  until  death.  But  love  cannot  be 
given  in  payment  of  promise  or  delivered 


Il6  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

to  fulfil  a  pledge,  and  in  many  cases  those 
who  were  bound  together  found  them- 
selves unfitted  by  nature  and  training  to 
live  in  harmony.  Instead  of  the  benefits 
that  conjugal  union  should  bring  to  life 
and  character,  there  was  discord  and  deg- 
radation of  spirit.  Society  for  its  own 
protection  forbade  the  easy  dissolution  of 
the  galling  bond,  and  from  the  enforced 
unions  came  offspring  endowed  with 
perversities  of  temper  and  physical,  mental 
and  moral  imperfections  that  marred  their 
whole  lives  beyond  cure. 

"  This  kind  of  hap-hazard  and  ill- 
assorted  marriage  is  no  longer  known. 
Children  of  both  sexes  are  brought  up 
with  an  understanding  of  themselves  and 
of  each  other,  and  of  this,  as  well  as  of 
other  relations  in  life,  which  prepares  them 
to  assume  the  duties  and  the  delights  of 
married  existence,  with  assurance  against 
the  old  risks  of  misery.  Love  is  of  course 
a  matter  of  sentiment  and  is  not  without 
the  glow  of  passion,  but  it  is  under  the 
sway  of  wisdom.     It  almost   always  hap- 


PROGRESS  OF  A  PERFECT  RA  CE.     1 1 7 

pens  that  when  a  young  couple  have  such 
an  affection  for  each  other  that  they  de- 
sire to  live  together  and  have  families  of 
their  own,  they  have  known  each  other  so 
long  and  so  well,  and  moreover,  have  been 
familiar  with  the  lives  and  characters  of 
so  many  others  of  their  own  age,  that 
they  are  sure  of  their  fitness  for  a  perma- 
nent union  and  incur  none  of  the  old-time 
chances  of  wreck.  Besides,  they  never 
fail  to  consult  their  friends  and  relatives 
who  arc  older  than  themselves,  and  to 
be  guided  by  their  counsel.  As  no  self- 
ish or  sordid  object  is  ever  sought,  and 
as  the  sole  desire  is  to  reach  the  conclu- 
sion that  will  best  assure  the  welfare  and 
happiness  of  those  concerned,  it  has  long 
been  a  rare  thing  to  have  to  mourn  over 
a  mistaken  marriage  or  to  consider  ques- 
tions of  separation. 

"  This  state  of  things  in  regard  to  the 
marriage  relation,  together  with  the  care 
given  to  the  birth  as  well  as  the  training 
of  children,  has  had  a  most  potent  effect 
upon  the  progress  which  this  people  has 


Il8  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

made  within  a  few  generations.  The  ef- 
fect upon  family  Hfe  has  been  most  ele- 
vating and  strengthening.  The  affection 
between  husband  and  wife  grows  day  by 
day  more  complete  ;  slight  incongeniali- 
ties  disappear,  until  there  is  hardly  more 
than  a  single  self  wherein  the  two  lives 
pass  in  happy  accord  through  death  to 
an  indissoluble  union  in  the  spirit  life. 

'*  In  the  old  days  of  the  turbulence  of 
the  passions  and  the  waywardness  of  folly, 
it  was  customary  to  surround  the  union 
of  man  and  wife  with  sanctions  of  religion 
and  obligations  of  law.  These  are  no 
longer  necessary.  Nothing  but  love  can 
make  such  a  union  sacred  and  nothing 
else  can  make  it  enduring.  Now  there 
are  no  formalities  or  ceremonies  attend- 
ing marriage  of  which  the  State  or  Church 
takes  any  note.  It  is  a  personal  and 
family  affair,  sanctified  by  love  and  made 
secure  by  the  obligations  of  love  and 
duty. 

''  No  longer  are  children  begotten  in 
heedless  disregard  of  the  lives  that  are  to 


PROGRESS  OF  A  PERFECT  RACE.     I  19 

await  them,  or  born  to  reluctant  parents, 
unfit  or  unable  to  give  them  proper  sup- 
port and  training.  The  passions  are  in 
subjection  to  reason  and  every  child  is 
the  offspring  of  deliberate  purpose.  The 
number  of  children  in  a  family  is  deter- 
mined by  the  wishes  of  parents  and  their 
ability  to  provide  adequately  for  them, 
and  the  whole  community  is  made  up 
of  happy  families.  The  greatest  misfor- 
tune, now  very  rare,  is  to  be  precluded 
by  any  circumstance  from  the  joy  and 
benefit  of  family  life.  These  homes  are 
often  occupied  by  two  or  three  genera- 
tions of  the  same  family  living  in  the 
utmost  concord. 

"  These  houses  that  you  see  spreading 
with  their  flowery  gardens  and  verdant 
lawns  in  ever-broadening  circles  about 
each  city  and  finally  scattering  in  rural 
habitations  over  the  intervening  country, 
are  each  the  possession  of  its  occupants. 
Those  who  are  old  enough  do  their  share 
m  the  work  of  the  community ;  they  de- 
vote   a  portion    of    each    day's    time    to 


120  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

studying  and  gathering  wisdom,  they 
have  their  hours  given  to  rational  pleas- 
ure, and  they  are  at  peace  with  each  other 
and  their  neighbors. 

"  There  are  no  barriers  between  home 
and  home,  and  nothing  is  locked  up  or 
guarded  by  night  or  day.  Honesty  and 
universal  good-will  are  an  all-sufficient 
protection  for  person  and  property." 


IX. 

THE   HIGHER    MORALS    AND    RELIGION. 

''But,"  I  asked, ''have  these  people 
no  government  and  no  laws?  " 

"  There  is  little  need  of  government  or 
laws  in  such  a  state  of  society.  Wicked- 
ness and  folly  make  these  necessary,  and 
scarcely  a  vestige  of  those  qualities  re- 
main, not  enough  to  require  a  system  of 
protection  against  them.  The  effect  of 
the  wonderful  progress  made  by  this 
people  has  not  been  to  increase  the  func- 
tions of  government,  but  to  diminish 
them,  until  only  a  few  of  the  simplest 
survive.  Ages  ago  the  necessity  of  deal- 
ing with  crime  and  destitution  disap- 
peared. With  the  prevalence  of  general 
intelligence,  universal  honesty,  and  the 
desire  to  do  right,  even  to  sacrificing  self- 
interest    for    the    benefit    of    others,    all 


122  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

need  of  complicated  systems  for  the 
settlement  of  disputes  and  difficulties 
involving  personal  and  property  rights 
departed.  When  the  ancient  order  of 
things,  under  which  there  were  various 
nations,  with  diverse  interests,  gave  way 
to  a  universal  brotherhood,  all  necessity 
for  regulating  the  relations  of  different 
countries  was  gone,  and  the  era  of  armies 
and  navies  and  conflicting  national  inter- 
ests is  recalled  as  a  barbarism  of  the 
distant  past. 

"  All  industrial  and  commercial  affairs 
go  on  smoothly  under  the  regulation  of 
a  voluntary  co-operation,  which  works  ef- 
fectually through  every  branch  and  in 
every  field  of  effort,  applying  itself  to  the 
precise  extent  that  it  is  required  to  ac- 
complish the  desired  results.  Where 
there  can  be  absolute  trust  and  confi- 
dence, and  where  suspicion  of  wrong 
is  never  entertained,  the  machinery 
of  administration  is  amazingly  simpli- 
fied. 

"Government,    so    far    as  it    exists   is 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.    123 

wholly  local.  Each  of  these  great  com- 
munities with  its  centre  for  mechanical 
4)roduction  and  commercial  interchange, 
and  its  wide  surroundings  of  rural  and 
industrial  life,  forms  a  unit  for  all  public 
purposes,  and  the  communication  be- 
tween them,  which  is  absolutely  free, 
needs  no  public  regulation.  In  each 
there  arc  certains  functions  of  general 
utility, — such  as  furnishing  supplies  of 
water,  heat,  light,  and  constructing  and 
maintaining  roads  and  other  means  of 
quick  and  constant  communication, — in 
short,  the  regulation  of  all  appliances  of 
common  use, — and  these  are  subject  to 
public  control.  It  is  the  application  of 
the  co-operative  principle  to  the  whole 
community.  Everything  that  is  a  con- 
cern of  all  the  people,  as  distinguished 
from  their  personal  affairs  and  the  busi- 
ness and  employments  which  they  regu- 
late among  themselves  by  systems  of 
voluntary  co-operation,  is  conducted  as  a 
public  function,  and  the  administration  of 
such  matters  is  placed  in    the  hands  of 


124  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

men  qualified  by  character  and  expe- 
rience for  the  work.  "^ 

*'  The  choice  of  men  for  these  public 
duties  is  by  no  means  so  difficult  a  mat- 
ter as  it  might  seem  to  be  to  one  who  has 
just  come  from  a  life  where  selfishness  is 
still  the  ruling  influence.  No  man  seeks 
the  honor  or  emolument  of  public  office, 
for  there  is  no  greater  reward  of  either 
kind  attached  to  it  than  the  same  man 
would  have  in  private  station,  and  no  one 
shirks  the  duty  and  responsibility  if  they 
are  assigned  to  him  by  the  general  voice. 
By  common  consent  it  is  only  men  of 
mature  yearS  and  long  experience  who 
are  selected  for  these  public  functions, 
and  each  is  paid  an  equivalent  of  the 
income  which  he  has  to  give  up  in  order 
to  devote  his  time  to  the  public  business. 

"  Every  year,  in  each  of  these  centre 
communities,  one  hundred  men  are 
chosen  from  the  whole  body  of  the  peo- 
ple to  constitute  the  Administrative  Coun- 
cil for  all  public  affairs.  This  body  has 
the  entire  power  of  regulation  and  Icgis- 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION^    1 25 

lation,  and  through  its  own  committees, 
or  subdivisions,  and  through  designated 
officials  from  its  own  members  it  per- 
forms all  executive  functions.  The  abil- 
ity, experience,  integrity  and  unselfish 
public  spirit  of  these  men,  always  assured 
by  the  popular  choice,  are  an  unques- 
tioned guarantee  of  the  most  efficient, 
honest,  and  economical  management. 
The  Administrative  Council  once  chosen 
for  the  year,  the  people  leave  the  public 
business  in  its  keeping  with  entire  confi- 
dence. 

"  I  have  learned  that  this  is  the  manner 
of  electing  the  Council :  In  the  great 
community  which  we  are  now  overlook- 
ing yonder  spacious  structure  of  a  single 
story,  with  the  succession  of  arched  roofs 
of  glass,  is  the  one  public  service  build- 
ing. It  contains  the  Council  Chamber 
and  all  necessary  offices  and  bureaus  and 
a  great  amphitheatre  for  popular  gath- 
erings. There  is  in  this  structure  a 
polling  room  for  receiving  the  votes  of 
the    people,   which   may  be   deposited  in 


126  BEYOND   rilE  BOURN. 

person  or  sent  in  by  mail,  i\t  any  time 
during  what  corresponds  in  our  minds  to 
the  fust  ten  months  of  tlie  >'ear,  names 
ma)'  be  sent  in  for  the  next  council. 
They  may  be  members  of  the  existing 
council  or  not,  and  every  citizen,  sign- 
ing liis  ballot,  may  in  this  way  suggest 
such  names  as  he  pleases,  not  exceeding 
the  number  to  be  chosen.  At  the  end  of 
this  nominating  period  a  month  is  al- 
lowed for  sifting  from  the  ballots  the 
three  hundred  candidates  receiving  the 
highest  number  of  votes,  if  there  are  so 
many  in  all,  and  from  these  the  final 
selection  is  made. 

"  For  this  purpose  the  polls  are  kept 
open  during  the  last  month  of  the  year. 
Each  citizen  may  vote  for  one  or  more  uf 
the  designated  three  hundred  candidates, 
as  he  pleases,  within  the  limit  of  one 
hundred,  but  not  give  more  than  one 
vote  for  the  same  candidate,  and  the  one 
hundred  receiving  the  highest  number 
are  declared  elected.  As  the  record 
of   voting   is  constantly  kept   during   its 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.    12/ 

progress  the  declaration  is  made  at  once 
upon  the  closing  of  the  polls  on  the  last 
day  of  the  year. 

''This  seems  at  first  cumbersome  if  not 
complicated,  but  there  is  so  much  inter- 
course and  interchange  of  opinions  and 
such  universal  honesty  and  singleness  of 
purpose  that  there  is  no  great  number  of 
candidates  suggested  in  excess  of  the 
number  required  for  the  council.  Before 
the  end  of  the  year  there  is  a  very  gen- 
eral agreement  upon  the  one  hundred  to 
be  chosen.  There  is  no  secrecy  about 
voting  and  no  occasion  for  safeguards 
against  any  sort  of  dishonesty  or  fraud, 
the  discovery  of  which  would  create 
amazement  as  great  as  would  be  pro- 
duced by  a  case  of  insanity  or  the  appear- 
ance of  a  pestilence. 

"  There  is  really  less  of  public  employ- 
ment than  you  might  suppose,  as  there  is 
much  voluntary  service,  which  includes 
pretty  much  all  the  teaching  and  provid- 
ing for  the  cultivation  and  entertainment 
of   the  people.     The  benefit  is  regarded 


128  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

as  mutual,  those  that  give  deriving  as 
much  satisfaction  as  those  that  receive." 

"But,"  I  said,  "a  pubHc  fund,  and 
hence  some  system  of  contribution  or 
taxation,  must  be  necessary  for  those 
public  functions  which  arc  equally  for  the 
advantage  of  all,  but  nobody's  individual 
interest  to  provide." 

**  Well,  but  to  whom,  think  you,  do 
this  planet  and  its  natural  treasures  and 
opportunities  belong?  To  the  people 
who  have  been  placed  upon  it,  do  they 
not?  Yet  in  the  application  of  their 
labor  and  skill  in  turning  the  natural  re- 
sources to  account,  different  persons 
must  occupy  different  areas  and  spaces, 
whether  farms  and  gardens,  mines  and 
quarries,  or  sites  for  factories  and  ware- 
houses. The  values  which  they  produce 
by  applying  their  labor  and  skill  fairly 
belong  to  themselves,  but  not  the  spaces 
which  they  have  taken.  These  are  part 
of  the  common  heritage  supplied  by  na- 
ture and  its  beneficent  author. 

''  Whatever  the  value  of  mere   occupa- 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.    1 29 

tion  of  space  may  be  to  the  individual,  he 
owes  to  the  community,  and  to  the  com- 
munity he  pays  it  freely  and  gladly  for 
the  general  benefit.  The  revenue  from 
this  source  is  ample  for  every  public  pur- 
pose, and  furnishes  the  means  for  all  the 
general  appliances  of  convenience,  com- 
fort and  enjoyment  that  are  not  supplied 
by  private  generosity,  in  which  there  is 
a  constant  emulation  among  those  pos- 
sessed of  a  superfluity.  Where  such  a 
spirit  prevails  as  is  plainly  dominant  here, 
there  is  little  need  of  rulers  or  of  laws, 
and  government  in  the  sense  with  which 
we  are  familiar  has  been  outgrown.  All 
revenue  for  the  common  purposes  of  the 
people  is  derived  from  the  virtual  rental 
to  individuals  of  that  which  is  by  right 
the  common  possession  of  the  people,  the 
land  upon  which  God  has  placed  them, 
and  that  revenue  is  gladly  paid  to  the 
common  treasury  and  is  ample  for  all 
public  needs.  Hence  no  burden  or  re- 
striction is  put  upon  the  production  and 
interchange  of  the  fruits  of  labor." 


I30  BEYOXD  THE  BOURIST. 

"  Hut  do  the  women,"  I  asked,  "take 
their  share  in  all  kinds  of  work  ?  " 

"  Every  being  does  the  work  that  is 
adapted  to  his  or  her  capabilities,  no  mat- 
ter what  that  work  may  be.  All  distinc- 
tions are  based  on  individual  qualities 
and  not  on  social  divisions  of  any  kind. 
There  arc  no  such  divisions.  There  are 
duties  and  tasks  for  which  women  are 
specially  fitted,  and  they  naturally  accept 
these,  but  no  individual  is  under  restraint 
or  requirement  of  any  kind.  Woman  has 
her  place  in  the  family  to  care  for  the 
young,  to  look  after  the  household,  the 
home  and  its  surroundings,  and  there  is 
her  chief  delight  ;  but  any  of  the  work  of 
the  community  that  she  may  like  to  do  is 
open  to  her.  In  the  libraries  and  lecture- 
rooms  and  museums,  men,  women  and 
children  learn  together,  each  pursuing  the 
studies  for  which  his  taste  fits  him. 

*'  Schools  of  the  ancient  sort  with  their 
disciplinary  restraints  and  regulations  do 
not  exist.  Despotism  is  no  more  neces- 
sary for  children  than  for  grown   people. 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.    131 

In  learning,  as  in  everything  else,  there  is 
liberty.  All  who  know  are  teachers  to 
any  that  desire  to  learn  the  things  they 
know,  and  all  are  learners  from  any  that 
may  be  in  advance  of  themselves  in  any 
field  of  knowledge.  Tliere  is,  in  fact, 
mutual  helpfulness  in  all  things.  Of 
course  all  this  is  not  left  at  hap-hazard; 
on  the  contrary  there  is  the  most  perfect 
system.  The  schools  are  sedulously 
graded,  so  that  there  may  be  no  waste  of 
time  or  energy,  and  the  rule  of  ''  the  fit- 
test "  is  the  principle  on  which  both 
teachers  and  pupils  find  their  natural 
places — under  guidance  of  directors 
chosen  for  the  purpose.  As  all  wish  to 
learn,  ancient  questions  of  discipline  are 
obsolete  ;  it  is  rather  like  a  well-ordered 
garden,  where  each  plant  is  helped  to 
grow  according  to  its  own  nature  and 
possibilities. 

**  The  knowledge  obtained  is  not  per- 
fect, for  knowledge  cannot  be  perfect 
short  of  infinity ;  but  these  people  have 
thoroughly  explored  their  globe  and  ex- 


132  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

amined  its  treasures,  whether  buried  in 
the  soil  and  rocks  or  in  the  sea.  Its  com- 
position and  its  natural  laws  they  know 
with  something  approaching  complete- 
ness of  knowledge.  Their  apparatus  and 
appliances  for  aiding  in  the  acquisition  of 
knowledge  are  far  more  effective  than 
anything  yet  devised  on  our  earth.  They 
have  studied  the  surrounding  heavens 
with  instruments  of  marvellous  power  and 
exquisite  perfection,  and  long  ago  dis- 
carded the  narrow  notion  natural  to  all 
undeveloped  peoples  that  their  world  was 
the  centre  of  the  universe  for  which  all 
the  rest  was  made  to  minister,  and  them- 
selves the  only  sentient  beings  in  this  in- 
finity of  worlds." 

"  I  do  not  see  any  churches  or  temples 
of  worship  among  these  people,"  I  said 
to  my  friend,  as  we  passed  unseen  among 
the  structures  of  one  of  their  greatest 
cities. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  "  there  are  no  longer 
any  costly  fanes  specially  devoted  to 
worship,  and  there  is   scarcely  anything 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION,    I  33 

that  can  be  called  public  worship.  Ages 
ago  these  people  attained  a  practical 
unanimity  of  opinion  and  of  sentiment 
on  matters  of  religion  and  moral  conduct. 
They  reached  a  degree  of  enlightenment 
that  made  it  clear  to  them  that  there  was 
but  one  standard  of  moral  character  and 
conduct,  and  that  its  observance  was  in 
every  way  conducive  to  the  well-being 
and  happiness  of  the  individual  and  of 
the  community.  Much  time  in  their 
schools,  their  homes  and  all  their  gather- 
ing places  is  still  devoted  to  teaching  and 
to  learning  in  matters  that  relate  simply 
to  moral  duty  or  pertain  to  the  relations 
of  men  with  each  other. 

''  For  a  long  time  they  maintained 
special  organizations  for  this  work  of 
moral  instruction  and  elevation,  but  they 
have  now  outgrown  the  need  of  them, 
and  an  all-pervading  influence  to  the 
same  end  is  kept  up  in  all  they  do.  It 
is  a  part  of  the  normal  social  spirit  that 
has  become  fully  prevalent.  These  spe- 
cial   organizations,    now   disused,    sprang 


134  ^''^  YOND  THE  BOURN. 

originally  out  of  religious  societies  formed 
mainly  for  worship  at  a  time  when  wor- 
ship had  many  forms  and  phases  of  super- 
stition. In  the  dark  times,  when  views  of 
the  Creator  and  of  the  nature  and  des- 
tiny of  his  creatures  were  obscured  in 
ignorance  and  credulity ;  when  there  was 
a  constant  struggle  between  the  spiritual 
aspirations  and  moral  tendencies  of  the 
inhabitants  of  this  planet  and  the  im- 
pulses and  passions  of  their  animal  na- 
ture ;  when  many  of  them  still  had 
natures  that  were  distorted  and  beset 
with  degrading  inclinations ;  in  short, 
before  knowledge  and  experience  had 
begotten  that  wisdom  which  has  resulted 
in  the  mastery  of  right  over  wrong — then 
there  were  many  forms  of  belief  and  man- 
ners of  worship. 

"  These  men  as  we  may  as  well  call 
them,  in  that  remote  age  held  different 
views  of  the  Creator  and  of  his  relations 
and  dealings  with  them,  according  to  the 
degree  of  enlightenment  which  they  could 
attain,  and  out  of  these  grew  systems  of 


BIG  HER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.     1 35 

belief  and  methods  of  worship  which  were 
a  help  to  them  in  their  efforts  at  progress 
and  the  elevation  of  their  race.  The 
stimulus  and  restraint  of  a  belief  in  a 
higher  Power  and  of  a  humble  and  de- 
vout worship  of  that  Power  were  neces- 
sary to  their  moral  advancement.  While 
they  were  in  the  darkness  of  ignorance 
and  unreason  this  belief  and  this  worship 
took  various  forms  which  were  maintained 
by  many  organizations. 

**  With  the  growth  of  knowledge  and 
the  full  development  of  reason  they  grad- 
ually came  nearer  to  the  truth  and  at- 
tained a  clearer  conception  of  the  God  of 
the  universe  and  of  his  attributes,  of  their 
own  nature  and  destiny,  and  of  the  rela- 
tion their  life  held  to  the  universal  and 
eternal  Life.  With  this  advancement  their 
many  forms  of  belief  melted  into  one  uni- 
versal faith,  as  the  errors  due  to  ignorance 
and  superstition  lost  their  hold  and 
dropped  away.  Now  they  have  but  one 
religion  of  all-comprehensive  simplicity 
and  purity,  and  no  formal  worship. 


n6  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 


J 


"  I  do  not  mean  by  this  tliat  they  are 
not  devout,  that  they  give  no  thought  to 
things  divine,  or  that  they  do  not  worship 
God.  Neither  do  I  mean  that  they  have 
no  associations  based  upon  religious  sen- 
timent. They  associate  constantly,  for 
all  manner  of  common  purposes,  and  the 
essential  principle  of  their  society  is  mu- 
tual helpfulness.  It  is  a  principle  that 
pervades  all  their  life,  their  industry,  their 
business  and  their  public  work  of  every 
kind.  For  generations  they  maintained 
organizations  £0  see  that  nobody  suffered 
from  sickness  or  misfortune  where  it  could 
be  helped,  to  see  that  the  conditions  of 
health  and  comfort  and  fair  opportunities 
in  life  were  provided  for  all,  and  the  result 
was  gradually  to  establish  a  social  system 
in  which  all  these  things  were  fully  cared 
for.  They  have  associated  together  for  a 
general  diffusion  of  education,  of  knowl 
edge  and  right  views  upon  all  matters  af- 
fecting their  welfare,  that  the  whole  stock 
of  wisdom  may  be  open  equally  to  all  and 
its  benefit  made  as  great  as  possible. 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.    I  37 

"  There  is  nothing  in  which  they  have 
been  more  assiduous  than  the  inculcation 
of  sound  and  wholesome  sentiments  and 
principles  of  conduct,  and  they  are  not 
only  not  negligent  of  the  spiritual  side  of 
their  nature,  but  it  has  long  been  the 
subject  of  special  study  with  them  and 
they  are  careful  of  its  training.  Much  of 
what  was  mysterious  to  us  on  earth,  and 
to  them  in  earlier  times,  and  was  vaguely 
regarded  as  supernatural  and  incompre- 
hensible, they  have  brought  within  the 
domain  of  their  knowledge,  and  they 
have  established  a  clearer  relationship 
with  the  unseen  world  than  to  us  seemed 
possible.  With  a  fuller  understanding  of 
the  spiritual  and  divine  their  sympathies 
have  been  greatly  developed  on  that 
side,  and  the  sentiment  of  devotion  and 
worship  has  been  exalted  and  freed  from 
the  grossness  and  crudeness  that  charac- 
terized it  at  a  stage  of  less  enlightenment. 
This  sentiment  is  cherished  by  proper 
exercise  and  cultivated  by  association  ;  it 
is  fostered  in  the  young  and  in  those   in 


138  BE  YOND  THE  B  0  URN. 

whom  it  appears  to  be  naturally  feeble, 
and  yet  all  this  is  rather  a  part  of  the 
general  life  than  a  matter  of  special 
organization  and  formal  effort.  It  is  in- 
volved in  the  universal  system  of  instruc- 
tion and  intercourse  of  the  community. 

''Worship  of  God  and  communion  with 
the  Spirit  of  the  universe  in  the  loftiest 
sense  must  be  au  affair  of  each  individual 
soul,  for  which  no  special  time  or  place  is 
required.  In  the  stage  of  advancement 
which  this  race  has  attained,  religious 
worship  needs  no  set  forms  and  methods, 
and  its  outward  expression  is  no  longer  a 
matter  of  publicity.  The  loftiest  senti- 
ments and  purest  emotions  are  appealed 
to  and  gratified  in  literature  and  the 
nobler  arts,  and  in  the  many  social  and 
public  gatherings  of  the  people  they  seek 
the  joy  and  stimulus  of  communion  with 
each  other  in  the  highest  aspirations  of 
the  soul  as  well  as  the  loftiest  themes  of 
thought.  But  it  is  only  in  the  privacy 
of  his  home  or  the  secrecy  of  his  own 
heart  that  the  individual  addresses  him- 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.    1 39 

self  to  a  communion  with  the  Father  of 
all  life.  In  short,  on  this  planet,  religion 
has  ceased  to  be  a  system,  and  has  become 
the  pervading  spirit  of  the  social  order 
and  of  the  daily  life  of  the  people. 

"  This  is  the  result  of  long  ages  of  ad- 
vancement during  which  great  teachers 
and  leaders  have  successively  arisen, 
pointing  the  way  of  elevation  more  and 
more  clearly,  and  manifesting  in  their 
own  lives  the  capabilities  of  the  race. 
The  ideal  was  thus  made  ever  more  clear 
and  more  accessible,  until  the  mass  of 
this  people  have  well-nigh  attained  it  for 
all  the  purposes  of  their  mortal  existence. 

''  This  planet  and  its  people  have 
greatly  interested  me  ever  since  I  discov- 
ered them,  because  they  remind  me  of 
the  earth  on  which  my  days  were  passed 
before  the  great  change,  and  seem  to 
exemplify  the  perfected  state  toward 
which  humanity  is  struggling  there  and 
which  it  may  reach  in  the  time  to  come." 

While  this  discourse  went  on  by  means 
of  that  spiritual  interchange  of  ideas  that 


140  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

has  no  need  of  physical  organs  or  senses, 
our  party  of  visitants  floated  gently 
among  the  people  and  observed  their 
ways  of  life,  being  often  aware  even  of 
their  thoughts  and  feelings.  Some  of 
them  would  at  times  pause  in  meditation, 
dimly  conscious  of  our  presence  and 
plainly  feeling  its  influence.  We  could 
by  our  own  volition  make  it  felt  to 
various  degrees  according  to  the  temper- 
ament or  the  mood  of  the  persons  af- 
fected. Our  own  intercourse  with  each 
other  was  that  of  a  quick  and  constant 
intercommunion  of  thought  and  feeling, 
and  my  beloved  wife  seemed  to  be  truly 
a  part  of  myself. 

As  I  contemplated  the  joyous  exist- 
ence of  this  happy  race  and  the  compara- 
tive perfection  it  had  attained,  it  seemed 
almost  as  though  the  purpose  of  its 
physical  life  had  been  fulfilled.  To  my 
friend  I  said  : 

"You  have  told  me  that  the  inhabi- 
tants of  this  planet  are  now  free  from  the 
diseases  and  ills  of  the  flesh  because  they 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.    141 

long  ago  ceased  to  propagate  and  perpet- 
uate them,  and  because  they  have  gained 
such  a  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  nature 
and  such  skill  and  fidelity  in  observing 
them  as  to  maintain  in  their  habits  and 
surroundings  the  conditions  of  perfect 
health.  But  in  process  of  time  they  die. 
We  see  evidences  of  that." 

''  Surely  they  die,"  was  the  answer, 
**  but  rarely  except  from  the  natural  de- 
cline and  decay  of  the  physical  powers. 
They  generally  live  a  full  century  (or 
more,  according  to  their  larger  measure 
of  time),  but  at  last  the  body  is  worn  out 
and  its  functions  cease.  By  that  time 
the  soul  is  fully  ripe  for  the  spirit-world 
and  passes  with  joy  to  the  abodes  of  the 
blest,  while  the  body  is  laid  away  to  dis- 
solve into  dust  or  be  reduced  to  the  ele- 
ments by  the  quicker  processes  of  nature. 
There  is  no  dread  of  death,  for  all  know 
that  it  is  not  a  calamity.  The  function 
of  the  fleshly  vesture  is  fulfilled  ;  the  soul 
is  prepared  to  live  without  it,  and  puts  it 
off  most  gladly. 


142  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

"  No  one  mourns  for  the  death  of 
friend  or  parent,  knowing  well  that  it  is 
but  a  passage  to  a  fuller  life,  and  that  the 
separation  will  not  be  long.  There  is  no 
parade  of  grief,  for  there  is  no  grief.  No 
honors  or  attentions  are  paid  to  the  cast- 
off  body  or  its  resting  place,  for  the  body- 
is  not  the  person  nor  the  grave  his  dwell- 
iiig.  Why  should  the  spot  where  the 
decaying  chrysalis  is  put  away  be  sur- 
rounded with  emblems  of  remembrance, 
when  the  spirit  of  the  loved  has  gone  to 
the  unseen  life  ?  The  thoughts  go  w^ith 
the  soul  into  life  and  not  with  the  body 
into  dust  and  ashes. 

''Everyone  here  is  prepared  to  die,  for 
a  character  has  been  formed  which  will 
stand  the  test  of  the  spiritual  existence. 
Souls  come  up  from  this  planet  continu- 
ally, far  purer  and  stronger  than  those 
that  come  from  our  earth,  save  that  a  few 
great  ones  from  that  young  and  struggling 
world  have,  in  spite  of  impediments  and 
obstacles,  risen  to  a  grander  stature  than 
their    fellows,    and    come   into  the   spirit 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.    1 43 

world  fit  for  association  with  the  high- 
est. And  this  fuller  stature  is  not  one  of 
mere  intellectual  power,  for  many  a  man 
has  had  that,  and  yet  been  a  spiritual 
dwarf ;  it  involves  an  intuitive  perception 
of  the  mutual  relation  of  spirit  with 
spirit — man  with  his  fellows  and  with  the 
Father  of  all — and  a  habit  of  life  in  ac- 
cordance with  those  relations.  The  sim- 
plest single  earthly  word  you  have  to 
express  the  quality  I  mean  is  love ;  yet 
that  must  be  largely,  and  not  selfishly, 
interpreted. 

*'  From  all  these  worlds  that  revolve  in 
space  come  trooping  millions  of  spirits 
that  God  has  breathed  into  being  to 
people  his  universe.  They  have  struggled 
through  the  embryo  stage  of  their  exist- 
ence with  varied  experiences  and  enter 
upon  *  the  life  indeed  '  with  every  degree 
of  development.  The  eternal  years  arc 
before  them  and  the  boundless  opportu- 
nities of  the  universe." 

As  our  spirit  group  lingered,  hovering 
over  that  scene  of  active  and  happy  life, 


144  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

I  exclaimed  :  ''  Here  behold  the  blessed 
possibilities  of  the  unhappy  planet  that  I 
have  left  !  If  the  people  of  the  earth 
would  learn  the  great  lessons  of  truth  and 
assimilate  them  into  their  lives,  they 
might  be  even  as  the  inhabitants  of  this 
happy  sphere,  one  great  brotherhood 
pervaded  with  peace  and  harmony. 

"  Here  riches  and  poverty  are  unknown 
and  both  alike  undesired,  while  on  earth 
they  are  prolific  sources  of  wrong  and  un- 
happiness.  Here  all  take  their  share  of 
toil,  and  necessary  work  is  done  without 
crushing  any  into  suffering  and  misery 
with  its  tremendous  burden.  There  is  no 
ignorance  and  no  crime,  and  hence  the 
cost  and  cruelty  of  laws  and  government 
are  unknown.  Ingenuity,  intellectual 
activity,  and  mutual  consideration  seem 
to  have  wrought  for  the  people  the  con- 
ditions of  a  healthy  life. 

"  Now  there  are  on  earth  thousands  of 
persons  as  well  inclined  to  do  right  and 
live  in  harmony  with  the  universe  as  this 
people,   and   if  all  could  be  brought   to 


HIGHER  MORALS  AND  RELIGION.    1 45 

that    condition,   a    millennium    like  that 
which  we  see  here  might  be  ushered  in." 

'*  Aye,"  was  the  response,  ''  but  it  is 
better  for  the  earth  race,  as  for  the  indi- 
vidual man,  to  grow  according  to  the  law 
of  its  being  and  come  up  through  con- 
flicts and  struggles  to  this  condition.  It 
will  then  be  endowed  with  strength  won 
by  its  own  efforts. 

''  In  ages  long  past  this  people,  too, 
groped  in  darkness  and  grappled  with 
each  other  in  terrific  conflicts,  striving 
and  groaning  for  the  light.  Then  were 
there  ignorance  and  sloth  and  crimes  and 
laws,  superstition  and  systems  of  religion, 
wealth,  and  poverty,  fights  and  wars  and 
destruction  and  suffering  and  misery,  but 
always  there  were  souls  serene  and  strong 
that  rose  above  the  conflict  of  discordant 
elements  and  saw  the  truth  and  the  right 
in  their  simple  purity.  These  never 
wearied  from  generation  to  generation  in 
warring  with  the  powers  of  darkness  and 
striving  to  lead  the  people  up  from  their 
bondage  and  degradation. 


146  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

"  Slowly  the  light  gained  upon  the 
darkness.  The  teachers  wrought  patiently 
through  the  discouraging  eras  and  wisdom 
gained  ground.  Law^s  and  systems  of 
faith,  which  were  as  props  to  secure  what 
had  been  gained  and  give  footholds  for 
further  advances,  became  simpler  and 
fewer  as  man  grew  wiser  and  stronger, 
until  at  last  the  hosts  of  the  right  pre- 
vailed and  the  enemies  of  peace  were 
overthrown.  The  edifice  of  the  race's  re- 
demption on  this  bright  planet  was  slowly 
and  painfully  reared  by  his  own  efforts, 
working  more  and  more  in  harmony 
with  the  laws  of  the  universe  and  of  the 
Divine  Spirit  that  pervades  it. 

"  The  earth  which  we  have  left  is  in 
the  midst  of  its  struggles  now,  and  the 
leaders  and  champions  of  right  feel  that 
their  w^ork  is  not  in  vain.  They  are  re- 
deeming their  race  through  constant  cru- 
cifixions, and  by  the  beneficent  laws  of 
compensation  they  are  gaining  from  their 
labors  and  sufferings  the  power  which  is 
the  real  object  of  mortal  life." 


X. 


SPIRIT      RELATIONSHIP      AND      ACHIEVE- 
MENT. 

Now  we  turned  from  this  happy  sphere 
and  glided  back  through  the  heavenly 
spaces.  Everywhere  about  us  as  we  went 
were  spirits  of  the  immortals,  some  bound 
on  distant  missions,  others  gathered  to- 
gether in  converse  and  communion,  fam- 
ilies and  friends,  great  ones  and  humble, 
all  intent  upon  the  joyful  activity  of  the 
eternal  life. 

Their  surroundings,  discernible  by  the 
disembodied  soul,  were  fraught  with  glo- 
ries and  beauties  which  to  physical  sense 
would  be  imperceptible  and  to  those  de- 
pendent upon  physical  senses  must  be 
incomprehensible.  To  picture  them  to 
the  minds  of  mortals,  I  should  speak  of 
grottoes  and  retreats  where  loveliness  of 


148  BEYOND  THE  BOURJST. 

form  and  color  were  combined  in  perfect 
harmony,  pervaded  with  all  the  charms 
of  sound  and  odor  that  can  delight  the 
soul ;  of  quiet  groves,  of  lovely  gardens, 
cool  fountains,  inviting  slopes  and  refresh- 
ing shades,  of  gorgeous  structures  in  the 
sublime  ether,  the  grand  architecture  of 
nature  in  the  free  heavens,  gleaming  with 
hues  brighter  and  more  varied  than  light 
can  furnish  to  human  vision,  and  wrought 
with  a  perfection  no  artist  or  architect 
ever  conceived  in  his  most  exalted 
dreams. 

By  such  imagery  alone  can  the  mind  of 
man  gain  some  faint  notion  of  the  spirit- 
ual abodes ;  and  yet  their  beauties  are  not 
material,  are  not  beauties  of  form  and 
color  and  are  not  filled  with  sounds  and 
odors.  Still,  they  are  of  a  nature  that 
gives  to  the  disembodied  spirit  a  far  more 
perfect  and  exalted  joy  than  could  be 
conveyed  by  the  senses  of  the  flesh  in 
their  most  exquisite  state. 

Through  these  scenes  in  their  myriad 
forms  we    passed  till  we   reached  a  quiet 


SPIRIT  RELA  TIONSHIP.  1 49 

retreat  in  which  seemed  to  be  united 
everything  that  could  delight  the  soul, 
and  there  with  ineffable  joy  we  reposed 
in  what  I  may  call  our  own  home.  My 
soul  and  my  soul's  beloved  wife  mingled 
in  a  manner  that  gave  supernal  joy,  far 
more  ecstatic  than  could  be  derived  from 
any  communion  of  spirits  hampered  in 
the  body.  Then  did  I  feel  that  one  mo- 
ment of  this  joy  that  was  to  be  eternal 
was  compensation  for  all  the  sufferings  of 
my  mortal  existence. 

Reposing  in  this  celestial  home  we  re- 
mained for  a  time  in  a  restful  revery,  like 
a  dream  of  bliss.  Then  came  again  my 
desire  to  learn  more  of  the  new  life. 

''  Ah !  "  I  said,  ''  our  earthly  hopes  of 
reunion  and  of  blessedness  with  those  we 
loved  were  not  unsubstantial  dreams. 
Here  we  are  united  in  the  eternal  home 
with  unending  years  before  us.  The  hap- 
piness of  the  earthly  life  was  but  a  be- 
ginning, the  interruptions  of  death  were 
momentary.  This  is  the  real  life  and  the 
ties  formed  there  hold  us  here  forever." 


150  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

*'  Yes,  it  is  so,"  returned  my  friend, 
"  and  yet  the  earthly  beginning  of  these 
ties  of  family  was  not  always  right, 
and  wrong  cannot  be  perpetuated, 
Here  there  is  truly  no  marriage,  no  carnal 
relationship,  and  all  association  is  the  re- 
sult of  natural  attraction.  Mortals  on 
earth  are  wont  to  call  marriage  '  sacred, 
divine '  ;  but  it  is  and  ever  was  a  device 
of  man — a  necessary  safeguard  in  an  im- 
perfect state  of  society — while  love  alone 
is  sacred. 

*'  Marriage  is  far  from  being  a  holy  in- 
stitution in  itself.  Persons  unfitted  to 
enjoy  each  other's  society,  unfitted  to 
promote  each  other's  growth  and  devel- 
opment,  unfitted  to  aid  in  ameliorating 
the  race,  assume  with  haste  and  folly  a 
union  which  human  laws  force  them  to 
hold  through  a  life  perchance  of  hatred 
and  unhappiness. 

"  No  divine  law  compels  such  incon- 
gruous and  wretched  unions  to  continue 
here.  Love  is  indeed  divine,  and  where 
that  exists  and  brings  souls  together  while 


SPIRIT  RELA  TIONSIIIP.  I  5  I 

yet  in  the  body,  their  communion  is 
sweet,  their  influence  upon  each  other  is 
beneficent,  they  have  offspring  of  still 
more  gracious  aspect  and  character  than 
themselves.  Such  spirits  will  continue  in 
their  relations  of  love  in  the  life  eternal, 
— but  that  is  only  because  they  are  rela- 
tions of  love,  and  not  because  they  ex- 
isted on  earth  or  were  in  conformity  with 
human  laws. 

"  Thousands  of  unions  on  earth  are 
sources  of  misery.  When  at  last  death 
effects  a  release  which  human  society 
would  not — perhaps  cannot — counte- 
nance, then  there  is  freedom  at  last. 
Every  hated  alliance  is  broken  and  there 
is  no  longer  subjection  of  the  will  where 
affection  is  not.  Every  soul  seeks  com- 
munion with  those  that  are  the  natural 
and  satisfying  objects  of  its  love. 

"  Vast  and  varied  are  the  relationships 
of  this  life,  and  every  soul  is  involved  in 
its  destiny  with  all  others,  but  the  inti- 
macy of  association  is  in  exact  propor- 
tion   to    the  natural    concrcnialitv   of    the 


152  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

spirits.  No  matter  what  former  relations 
or  ties  may  have  existed  under  the  re- 
straints of  human  laws  and  the  necessities 
of  human  society,  here  freedom  is  perfect 
and  universal.  Each  spirit  seeks  out  for 
its  love  those  that  understand  itself  and 
have  an  attraction  for  it,  and  cleaves  to 
none  other.  There  is  the  most  intimate 
communion  where  this  attraction  is  strong- 
est, and  affection  grows  wherever  cnarac- 
ters  are  adapted  to  excite  it  in  each  other. 

''  A  soul  let  loose  in  the  heavens  will 
soon  find  out  its  companions  and  always 
join  its  own  company.  Those  for  whom 
it  has  most  love,  it  may  have  been  sepa- 
rated from  through  most  of  its  fornier 
existence,  and  those  that  it  lived  with 
may  be  the  ones  in  whom  it  finds  no  re- 
ciprocal attraction. 

"  Many  souls  are  united  after  long  es- 
trangement and  cruel  separation,  and 
marriage  may  be  what  separated  them. 
Families  may,  indeed,  be  separated  in 
heaven,  but  only  when  they  are  not  fitted 
to  be  together. 


SPIRIT  RELA  TIONSHIP.  1 5  3 

**  Many  a  wife  will  leave  a  husband  she 
ought  never  to  have  had  and  will  find  her 
supreme  joy  with  one  whom  she  can 
really  love ;  aye,  with  thousands  whom 
she  loves — if  you  will  dissociate  that 
word  from  its  lower  misuses,  and  take  its 
nobler,  truer  meaning.  Husbands  that 
were,  if  they  loved  not  their  wives,  cleave 
to  them  no  longer  but  seek  the  compan- 
ionship of  those  whom  they  do  love.  In 
short,  the  human  relations  continue  just 
so  far  as  they  were  relations  of  love,  and 
no  farther ;  and  where  love  is,  there  will 
the  demonstrations  of  love  abound. 

''  There  is  no  conflict,  and  no  jealousy ; 
for  where  freedom  is  perfect  jealousy  can- 
not exist.  Our  associations  are  manifold, 
and  love  of  one  does  not  exclude  love  of 
another.  Certain  necessities  and  purposes 
of  the  mortal  existence  created  exclu- 
siveness  and  restraints,  but  here  there  are 
none.  Those  necessities  and  purposes  no 
longer  have  force,  and  the  freedom  of  love 
is  perfect. 

"  The   consummation  of  love  in   com- 


154  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

munion  and  interchange  of  thought  and 
feehng  has  nothing  in  it  of  carnal  Hmita- 
tions.  Wives  and  husbands,  children  and 
parents,  brothers  and  friends,  whose  rela- 
tionships sprang  from  love,  find  them- 
selves bound  together  here  with  an 
affection  more  exalted  and  in  a  commu- 
nion more  perfect ;  but  those  relationships 
that  were  forced  and  unnatural  are  aban- 
doned and  forgotten.  There  is  indeed 
no  marriage  or  giving  in  marriage,  no 
families  defined  by  law  or  kept  together 
by  restraint,  but  perfect  freedom,  perfect 
harmony  and  perfect  bliss  in  communion 
of  spirits. 

**The  harmony  of  disembodied  souls  is 
ever  increasing.  Many  come  here  whose 
character  is  likely  to  produce  discord,  but 
they  find  around  them  benign  influences 
and  every  encouragement  and  assistance 
to  develop  their  better  powers  and  capac- 
ities. Growth  and  development  are  char- 
acteristics of  this  life  as  of  that  on  earth. 
Spirits  find  themselves  here  oftentimes 
but   little    developed,  on    account  of   the 


SPIRI  r  RELA  riONSHIP.  I  5  5 

untoward  circumstances  of  their  earthly 
experience,  and  such  have  their  lives  to 
begin  almost  anew.  Others  have  been 
crippled  and  distorted  and  have  a  thou- 
sand stubborn  faults  to  correct." 

"  But,"  I  said  with  surprise,  "  do  the 
bad,  the  wicked,  the  vicious,  the  criminal, 
enjoy  the  same  advantages  as  the  good 
and  virtuous  ?  " 

*' Ah  !  "  said  the  spirit  with  a  kind  of 
angelic  sadness,  'Svho  shall  judge  and 
punish  the  wicked  ?  An  all-wise  Creator 
has  brought  the  human  race  into  being 
and  placed  it  on  yonder  little  planet,  with 
all  its  powers,  its  capabilities  and  its  ten- 
dencies, to  grow  up  through  struggle  and 
conflict,  through  error  and  wrong,  into 
the  strength  and  purity  of  a  perfected 
state. 

''  Some  with  happy  endowments  and  fa- 
voring circumstances  may  attain  a  goodly 
growth  during  the  lifetime  of  the  body, 
but  the  growth  of  the  race  as  a  whole  is 
the  process  of  many  generations.  Mean- 
time   thousands  are  constantly  falling  in 


156  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

the  struggle  and  are  trodden  under  foot ; 
thousands  wander  far  astray ;  and  of  the 
millions  that  are  continually  perishing 
from  the  face  of  the  earth  few  have  fairly 
got  started  on  their  life.  The  laws  most 
favorable  to  the  whole  in  the  long  process 
of  growth,  necessitate  the  crushing  down 
of  many  for  the  time  being  ;  and  who  shall 
condemn  them  for  their  misfortune  ? 

''  It  is  the  lot  of  many  a  soul  to  receive 
in  the  conception  and  gestation  of  the 
bodily  organism,  tendencies  which,  with 
a  feeble  will  and  no  encouragement,  it 
cannot  overcome  and  can  but  weakly  re- 
sist. It  is  blind  as  to  its  own  nature  and 
destiny,  and  no  one  imparts  light  and 
knowledge  to  it.  It  violates  continually 
the  laws  of  bodily  and  spiritual  well-being 
and  receives  continually  the  penalty  that 
follows  as  an  inevitable  consequence.  It 
was  planted  in  a  bad  soil  with  conditions 
unfavorable  to  healthy  growth,  and  be- 
comes wild,  rank  and  noisome. 

''Another  soul  is  introduced  to  life 
through  a  more  wholesome  medium  and 


SPIRIT  KELA  no N SHIP.  I  5  J 

begins  with  tendencies  toward  a  healthy 
development  and  circumstances  which 
favor  and  encourage  it.  It  becomes  vig- 
orous, symmetrical  and  pure. 

"  There  is  struggle  and  effort  such  as 
the  person  is  capable  of  in  both  cases ;  in 
one  success,  in  the  other  almost  total  fail- 
ure. The  merit  and  the  blame  in  the  eye 
of  the  All-wise  differ  but  little  in  the  two 
cases.  Both  souls  leave  the  body.  One 
finds  itself  fitted  for  association  with  the 
pure  and  good,  the  wise  and  great  of  the 
race,  and  ready  for  the  activities  and  the 
renewed  and  vigorous  growth  of  the  celes- 
tial life.  This  is  compensation  enough 
for  sufferings  and  drawbacks  such  as  he 
has  had.  The  other  sees  at  last  the  great 
destiny  of  being,  but  finds  itself  far  from 
its  attainment,  unfitted  for  its  joys,  almost 
an  outcast  from  the  celestial  hosts,  not 
because  they  cast  it  out,  but  because  the 
character  it  brings  does  not  fit  it  for  their 
company.  Is  not  this  sufficient  punish- 
ment, if  punishment  is  deserved  ?  Should 
not  this  poor  soul's  forlorn  condition  ex- 


158  BFA'OXD  THE  BOURN. 

cite  pity  and  compassion  rather  than  re- 
sentment and  wrath  ? 

"  Every  spirit  that  has  passed  from  the 
body  and  its  h'mitations  and  entangle- 
ments has  enough  left  of  the  instinct  of 
growth  and  the  )-carning  for  perfection  to 
begin  with  new  hope,  for  without  hope 
nothing  can  be  attained. 

"  These  unhappy  ones  are  taken  from 
the  wilderness  in  which  they  got  contin- 
ually lost ;  they  are  freed  from  the  pas- 
sions and  appetites  pertaining  to  the  flesh, 
which  drove  them  into  pits  and  sloughs  ; 
they  find  that  the  spirits  of  the  just  and 
good  do  not  look  on  them  with  disdain 
but  with  pity  and  love,  and  are  read}^  to 
give  them  aid  and  encouragement.  So 
the  poor  dwarfed,  distorted  cripples  soon 
come  into  relations  of  s}'mpathy  with  hap- 
pier spirits  and  begin  to  learn  the  great 
lessons  of  life.  They  labor  with  an  eager- 
ness which  those  can  hardly  show  who 
have  not  been  through  the  darkness  that 
they  have  passed,  and  they  feel  a  joy  more 
keen  for  the  misery  they  have  endured. 


SPIRIT  RELA  TIONSHIP.  1 59 

''Their  moral  sufferings  are  gradually 
transmuted  into  sinews  of  strength  and 
they  make  their  way  up  among  the  wise 
and  good,  growing  in  knowledge,  in  power 
and  in  purity,  and  feeling  a  pleasure  in 
them  which  former  privations  intensify. 
Surely  they  have  compensation  and  not 
cruel  punishment  for  the  disadvantages 
of  their  earthly  existence. 

**  Children  come  here  with  little  or  no 
earthly  experience.  This  is  a  disadvan- 
tage, but  it  has  its  compensation,  also,  for 
they  have  few  wrong  tendencies  to  correct 
and  no  evil  habits  to  remedy.  They  are 
taken  in  charge  by  loving  teachers  who 
train  them  tenderly  in  the  knowledge  and 
grace  w^hich  are  the  objects  of  life.  In 
this  sphere  of  development  the  stages 
reached  are  infinitely  varied,  but  every 
person  is  striving  on  toward  perfection, 
which  can  be  attained  only  in  eternity. 
The  knowledge  to  be  acquired  is  infinite, 
the  faculties  to  be  developed  have  no  strict 
limitation,  and  only  an  eternity  can  com- 
plete the  process  of  growth  to  perfection. 


l6o  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

"  Every  condition  of  spiritual  character 
comes  here  from  the  earth  and  from  the 
other  worlds,  and  each  has  something  to 
impart  to  the  others.  The  qualities  and 
experiences  of  all  the  individuals  have 
their  effect  in  forming  the  character  of 
the  whole.  Some  have  been  here  for 
what  on  earth  would  be  regarded  as  long 
ages,  but  even  with  their  enlarged  powers 
and  the  greater  facilities  of  the  spirit 
world,  they  have  scarcely  begun  upon  the 
infinite  resources  of  life.  There  are  no 
false  standards  of  judgment,  but  every 
soul  speedily  finds  the  place  to  which  it 
is  entitled  by  the  qualities  it  brings  with 
it  or  which  it  attains. 

"  Many  that  were  high  and  mighty  in 
the  earthly  life  are  humbled  when  they 
find  for  the  first  time  what  they  really 
are,  and  are  forced  to  take  their  place 
below  the  peasant  and  the  slave  who 
strove  after  spiritual  power  and  not  after 
wealth  and  high  station,  which  are  no 
measure  of  true  greatness  of  soul.  Many 
come  up  through  poverty  and  hardship. 


SPIRIT  RE  LA  TIONSHIP.  1 6 1 

through  toil  and  struggle,  and  find  them- 
selves ready  to  take  up  the  tasks  of  this 
life  far  in  advance  of  some  to  whom  they 
had  looked  up,  regarding  them  not  only 
as  great  and  powerful  but  as  good  and 
saintly  beyond  their  own  hopes." 

*'  But  the  truly  great  ones  of  earth,"  I 
asked,  ''  where  are  they  ?  The  saints  and 
sages,  the  poets  and  philosophers,  those 
who  conquered  the  hearts  of  men  by  the 
might  of  intellect,  surely  they  retain  their 
pre-eminence !" 

"  Yes,  but  man  yof  them  had  lessons 
to  learn  which  the  obscure  had  acquired 
before  them.  Those  were  not  alone  the 
really  great,  even  in  intellect,  who  were 
known  as  such ;  many  an  unknown  and 
unambitious  thinker  was  the  peer  of  those 
who  gained  the  widest  repute,  while  those 
who  lived  in  the  mouths  of  men  had  un- 
noted weaknesses  which  belittled  them. 
Here  all  are  measured  by  an  absolute 
standard,  and  there  is  no  place  for  preten- 
sion.    Every  soul  passes  for  what  it  is. 

**  Still,  those  powers  which  any  possess 


1 62  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

in  a  higher  degree  than  others  they  exer- 
cise in  the  pursuit  of  their  favorite  inves- 
tigations and  labors.  The  unlimited  fields 
of  truth  are  before  them  and  their  powers 
and  facilities,  actual  or  to  be  attained,  are 
as  limitless.  Each  can  follow  his  chosen 
pursuit.  One  studies  the  material  ele- 
ments of  the  universe,  their  qualities, 
operations  and  laws,  while  another  is  en- 
gaged in  learning  of  spiritual  things ;  and 
as  each  advances  in  the  conquest  of  truth, 
he  becomes  a  teacher  of  others  and  the 
advancement  of  all  is  promoted. 

*'  The  man  of  science  makes  calcula- 
tions vaster  than  the  universe  of  his  mor- 
tal conception,  penetrates  mysteries  which 
had  hitherto  seemed  forever  shut  against 
him,  and  takes  all  knowledge  for  his 
province  with  hope  of  bringing  it  to  per- 
fect subjection  in  the  endless  time.  The 
philosopher  thinks  with  untrammelled  in- 
tellectual power  and  soars  on  forever, 
broadening  and  strengthening  his  grasp 
upon  abstract  truth,  and  ever  approach- 
ing but  never  reaching  a  perfect  knowl- 


SPIRIT  KEL  A  TIONSHIP.  1 63 

edge  of  God  and  His  purposes  and  mean- 
ing, for  even  here  and  to  us  the  divine 
being  is  an  eternal  mystery. 

*'  On  earth  our  conception  of  God  had 
but  a  ghmmcr  of  truth.  Now  we  know 
Him  as  the  all  pervading  spirit  of  the  uni- 
verse that  manifests  His  activity  in  every 
operation  of  nature  throughout  the  num- 
berless worlds,  contains  us  all  within  His 
own  being,  and  is  everywhere  an  intelli- 
gence and  a  power,  full  and  perfect.  We 
perceive  His  presence  by  the  spiritual  in- 
tuition, as  we  perceive  that  of  each  other; 
we  commune  with  Him  as  the  finite  may 
with  the  infinite,  and  yet  we  cannot  com- 
prehend His  vastness  in  wisdom,  in  power 
and  in  love,  and  we  only  draw  nearer  and 
nearer  to  a  perfect  comprehension  as  in  the 
long  epochs  of  eternity  we  acquire  knowl- 
edge more  and  more  complete  of  His  cre- 
ation, of  the  operations  of  His  might,  of 
the  objects  of  His  care  and  His  perfect 
methods  in  dealing  with  them. 

*'  As  our  love  for  each  other  grows  in 
intensity   and  expands  so  as  to  take  in 


164  BEYOND  THE  BOURISr. 

more  of  our  fellow  beings,  we  begin  to 
comprehend  more  of  His  infinite  love; 
and  we  approach  more  nearly  to  it,  the 
more  fully  we  love  all  the  beings  and  all 
the  things  that  He  has  made,  for  His  love 
in  its  infinite  perfection  embraces  all  with 
equal  warmth. 

''  On  earth  we  were  ever  striving  to 
imitate  in  our  puny  way  the  works  of 
God.  Our  efforts  to  comprehend  His  cre- 
ation and  His  being  were  but  strivings 
toward  what  He  is.  Artists  rejoiced  in 
success  only  as  they  could  copy  Him  in 
conception  and  in  achievement,  and  they 
were  great  only  as  they  approached  God. 
The  musician  endeavored  to  produce 
sounds  that  should  be  some  faint  echo  of 
His  eternal  harmonies.  The  poet  tried  to 
grasp  His  thought  and  feeling,  and  body  it 
forth  in  language  that  should  make  others 
thrill  in  response  to  its  beauty  and  wisdom. 

*'  Here  it  is  the  same  in  a  higher  degree. 
All  are  striving  to  reach  God  through  His 
works.  Those  who  are  learning  to  com- 
prehend Him  and  growing  in  His  likeness 


SPIRIT  KELA  TIONSHIP.  \  6  5 

are  fulfilling  their  destiny.  Here,  too, 
are  poets  and  musicians,  and  artists,  seek- 
ing finer  harmonies,  and  subtler  beauties, 
and  giving  them  voice  and  form  in  such 
manner  that  other  spirits  comprehendhig 
them  are  exalted  and  purified.  All  are 
striving  in  their  several  ways  to  learn  what 
God  has  done,  and  trying  to  do  some- 
thing Godlike.  Thus  through  the  ages 
of  eternity,  their  growth  is  toward  God. 

"  The  faculties  of  the  disembodied  soul 
find  constant  employment,  and  this  is  a 
busy  life  ;  but  there  are  periods  of  repose. 
Amid  the  glories  of  heaven  the  soul  may 
settle  into  a  blissful  quietude,  drinking  in, 
as  it  were,  in  a  revery  or  an  exalted 
dream,  the  beauties  and  harmonies  that 
surround  him.  He  may  hold  the  active 
powers  in  suspense  and  float  in  joyous 
idleness." 

As  my  friend  ceased  his  discourse,  I 
remained  for  a  time  in  such  serene  repose 
as  he  had  just  described.  Then  my  mind 
began  to  wander  back  to  earth,  and  I 
thought  of    the    possibility  of   sometime 


1 66  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

making  visits  ihcrc,  as  \vc  had  visited  the 
far-off  planet  and  its  happy  race.  It 
seemed  to  mc  that  I  might  find  satisfac- 
tion in  observing  the  progress  of  the  lui- 
man  race  toward  a  higlier  state,  though 
there  was  no  person  left  behind  toward 
whom  I  had  an)-  yearning. 

With  this  thought  I  once  more 
questioned  my  friend.  "There  was 
among  us  on  earth,"  I  said,  "a  cher- 
ished notion  that  the  spirits  of  the 
departed  were  wont  to  return  and  watch 
over  the  living,  attending  thcni  in  their 
daily  walks,  soothing  them  in  sorrow  and 
suffering,  and  hovering  about  them  to 
their  journe)''s  end,  ready  to  receive  them 
at  the  moment  of  death  and  take  them  to 
the  abodes  of  happiness." 

"Yes,  but  the  thought  was  born  of  our 
weakness  and  our  selfishness.  Doubtless 
spirits  have  the  power  to  visit  the  earth, 
as  they  may  visit  any  spot  in  all  the  vast 
universe,  and  tlic\'  ma\'  linger  in  familiar 
places  and  watcli  those  still  in  the  flesh, 
but  would  it    be  well    for  them   to    do  so 


SPIRITUAL  RELATIONSHIP.  1 6/ 

constantly?  Those  living  on  earth  are 
undergoing  the  needed  discipline  of  early 
growth,  appointed  to  them  by  the  Creator 
under  his  unchanging  laws.  We  cannot 
relieve  them  from  any  part  of  the  burden 
or  the  hardship,  and  would  not  if  we  could, 
for  we  trust  God's  wisdom  and  know  that 
what  is  allotted  to  them  is  the  best. 

"  The  duration  of  the  earthly  struggle 
is  brief,  and  those  to  whom  it  is  hardest 
will  find  the  after  life  all  the  richer.  Be- 
sides, this  is  a  life  of  activity  and  of  duty, 
and  there  are  more  desirable  things  to  do 
than  lingering  near  those  whom  we  can- 
not help  and  can  hardly  comfort  or  en- 
courage. We  do  indeed  return  at  times 
and  find  satisfaction  in  re-visiting  familiar 
scenes,  and  we  take  an  interest  in  the 
circumstances  and  achievements  of  those 
we  know.  In  cases  of  peculiar  hardship 
or  extreme  sorrow  we  may  be  drawn  to 
linger  for  a  time  about  them  and  make 
our  presence  felt,  soothing  the  feelings  of 
suffering  ones  wMth  the  consciousness  that 
we  are  near. 


1 68  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

"Oftentimes  have  }our  belo\cd  wife 
and  sister  and  I  been  near  }'0u  in 
your  days  of  loneliness,  but  nothing  that 
we  could  do  would  relieve  it,  and  we 
knew  that  it  was  wholesome  for  the 
soul,  and  the  recompense  was  to  come. 
We  never  made  our  presence  known,  and 
though  you  may  often  have  thought  of 
us  as  hovering  about  you,  you  never  felt 
any  certainty  of  our  presence.^' 

"  It  is  possible,  then,"  I  said,  ''  for  the 
disembodied  spirit  to  make  its  presence 
known  to  the  living  and  perhaps  to  com- 
municate with  them  !  " 

"  Undoubtedly  it  is  possible.  One 
mind,  while  still  in  the  bod}-,  ma}'  exert 
an  influence  over  another.  When  it  is 
freed  from  the  limitations  of  the  physical 
organism,  it  may  do  tin's  still  more  com- 
pletely. Sometimes  it  will  do  so  uncon- 
sciously to  the  subject  and  for  a  benefi- 
cent purpose,  directing  one's  course  in 
dark  times  and  uncertain  places.  Some- 
times a  person  peculiarly  constituted  or 
in  an  abnormal  condition  mav  be  affected 


SPIRITUAL  RELATIONSHIP.  1 69 

by  this  influence  to  a  remarkable  degree, 
with  results  that  are  mysterious  to  those 
who  do  not  understand  the  source  and 
nature  of  the  influence.  But  it  is  better 
for  those  still  in  the  earthly  life  to  attend 
to  the  duties  of  that  life  and  leave  the 
secrets  of  the  other  till  admitted  to  them 
in  the  natural  course  of  things.  If  the 
life  of  the  present  is  wisely  conducted  the 
life  of  the  future  is  always  safe. 

*'  Besides,  efforts  to  fathom  by  direct 
communication  those  mysteries  that  are 
wisely  shut  from  the  view  of  mortals  in 
order  that  the  discipline  of  the  prelim- 
inary life  may  be  more  complete,  are  apt 
to  produce  unwholesome  delusions  and 
misleading  fancies.  The  craving  for  such 
revelations  becomes  morbid  and  absorb- 
ing; it  blinds  the  judgment  and  displaces 
real  faith  with  gross  credulity,  and  leads 
to  deception  and  to  perversion  of  the 
natural  sentiments.  When  the  brain  or 
nervous  system  is  in  a  state  of  unnatural 
excitement,  the  mind  becomes  subject  to 
hallucinations.     It    may  see  visions   and 


I/O  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

hold  conversations  purely  imaginary, 
which  seem  to  it  so  real  that  it  has  full 
faith  in  their  reality. 

"  Persons  in  this  morbid  state  think 
they  see  the  forms  of  the  departed  as 
they  knew  them  on  earth,  with  the  same 
bodily  lineaments  and  even  the  familiar 
dress,  when  the  reasoning  mind  knows 
that  the  bodily  features  are  undistinguish- 
able  dust,  the  clothing  surely  can  have  no 
spiritual  existence,  and  the  soul  is  a  thing 
not  to  be  seen  with  the  material  eye. 
Yet  many  people  who  are  reasonable  on 
all  subjects  that  concern  their  actual  life, 
become  superstitious  and  irrational  when 
dealing  with  matters  that  concern  death 
and  that  portion  of  life  which  is  beyond. 

''Spirits  while  still  in  the  body  have 
duties  and  activities  pertaining  to  their 
mortal  state  and  the  early  growth  of 
their  faculties.  The  purposes  of  their 
earthly  existence  will  be  best  fulfilled  if 
they  attend  to  that  life  and  the  training 
of  the  soul  for  a  higher  state  of  being. 
This    will    not    preclude    a   salutary  cou' 


SPIRIT  RELATIONSHIP.  171 

templation  of  the  destiny  appointed  for 
man,  as  revealed  in  his  nature  and  his  ex- 
perience, and  foreshadowed  by  the  deeper 
intuitions  of  his  soul  and  the  exalted 
faith  of  those  whose  spirits  are  most  in 
harmony  with  the  all-pervading  spirit  in 
which  we  have  our  existence.  Life  in  the 
body  has  a  sympathetic  contact  with  the 
life  that  is  above  and  around  it,  and  may 
draw  inspiration  from  it  that  is  uplifting 
and  purifying,  but  not  through  efforts  at 
a  personal  communion  which  the  limita- 
tions of  the  bodily  senses  make  impossible. 
''  Here  the  same  beings  that  have 
passed  through  the  earthly  experience 
enter  upon  a  new  phase  of  the  same  life, 
and  must  devote  themselves  to  its  duties, 
looking  forward  and  not  backward,  ad- 
vancing through  higher  and  higher  stages 
of  development,  approximating  more  and 
more  toward  perfection  of  knowledge  and 
of  power,  increasing  by  using  these  for  the 
benefit  of  others,  and  assuming  more  and 
more  the  divine  character  throughout  the 
aeons." 


XL 

SNATCHED    FROM  THE    HEAVENLY    LIFE. 

Here  then  was  I,  entered  upon  the  Hfe 
eternal,  or  rather  upon  the  second  stage 
of  it,  for  the  life  on  earth  was  the  begin- 
ning of  the  life  eternal.  Life  once  begun 
is  immortal,  and  the  dissolution  of  the 
body,  which  was  necessary  to  the  chr}'sa- 
lis  state  of  being,  is  but  an  incident  in  its 
course.  It  involves  a  mighty  change 
of  conditions  and  circumstances  but 
it  is  no  interruption  to  the  life  of 
the  soul  or  transformation  of  its  char^ 
acter. 

On  this  stage  of  life  was  I  fairly  entered, 
and  in  the  ambrosial  bowers  and  retreats 
of  the  celestial  world  I  tasted  ecstatic  bliss 
with  those  whom  I  had  loved  on  earth. 
No  new  love  now  conceived  could  ever 
supersede  that  which  was  begun  amid  the 


SjVa  tched  from  he  a  venl  y  life.   I  73 

trials  of  the  earthly  state,  for  that  love 
was  complete. 

I  passed  celestial  hours  with  my  wife 
and  the  little  one  who  had  never  known 
aught  of  the  troubles  of  earth,  but  was 
growing  with  unsullied  purity  in  the  at- 
mosphere of  heaven  ;  with  my  parents, 
my  sister,  and  the  friend  that  had  come 
before,  whom  now  I  felt  to  be  in  advance 
of  me  and  capable  more  than  ever  of 
teaching  and  guiding  me. 

Not  alone  with  these  did  I  hold  com- 
munion, but  I  enjoyed  the  society  of  the 
great  and  good  of  all  ages,  now  purer  and 
greater  than  ever  before,  but  free  from 
all  assumption  that  they  were  higher  or 
better  than  the  least  of  God's  creatures. 
In  the  converse  of  the  wise  and  good  I 
shared  with  rapture,  and  laid  hold  upon 
truths  and  exalted  thoughts  that  my 
mind  had  never  grasped  before. 

In  this  company  were  not  alone  those 
who  were  known  as  saints  and  sages  in 
the  mundane  life, — poets,  philosophers, 
scholars,    martyrs   and    heroes,  men    and 


174  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

women  of  exalted  souls  and  might}' 
thought  from  all  parts  of  the  world,^— 
those  called  heathen  as  well  as  those 
known  as  Christian  ;  but  there  were  also 
those  who  had  dwelt  in  obscurity  even 
among  their  own  people,  whose  lot  was 
humble  and  whose  most  intimate  asso- 
ciates had  hardly  known  the  great  quali- 
ties they  possessed.  In  that  celestial 
society  the  pure,  the  strong,  and  the 
great,  though  on  earth  they  may  have 
been  poor  and  despised,  were  accepted 
among  their  peers  and  became  teachers 
of  the  great  ones  of  the  earth. 

Among  the  rest  was  the  One  Jesus,  he 
who  had  so  thoroughly  begun  the  heav- 
enly life  on  earth,  passing  through  the 
trials  and  sorrows  of  human  existence 
without  a  stain.  Exalted,  beloved,  sought 
on  all  sides,  he  was  still  meekest  and  lowli- 
est among  spirits,  still  as  ever  the  Teacher, 
the  Comforter,  and  the  Revealer  of  great 
truths  of  God,  which  others  had  not  yet 
learned.  Still  he  taught  that  he  was  the 
son   of   God   and    all    mankind    were    his 


SNA  TCI/ ED  FROM  HE  A  VENL  Y  LIFE.    I  /  5 

brethren,  that  the  human  was  ever  divine, 
that  the  labor  of  the  soul  was  to  attain 
more  and  more  to  the  stature  of  the  Infi- 
nite by  emulating  His  love  and  care  for 
others.  Highest  in  station,  he  had  the 
highest  bliss— of  seeing  the  fruition  of 
his  life  and  love. 

Yet  in  this  goodly  company  to  which  I 
felt  full  assurance  of  free  admission,  in 
the  sweet  converse  of  friends  and  family, 
there  was  ever  upon  me  an  attraction,  in- 
comprehensible but  irresistible,  drawing 
me  back  toward  the  scenes  of  my  mortal 
experience. 

Why  should  I  give  a  thought  to  that 
life,  now  gone  and  seemingly  far  away  in 
the  vague  past,  in  the  very  beginning  of 
the  world  and  contemporary  with  the 
patriarchs  and  prophets?  It  seemed  to 
me  comparatively  so  small  and  mean  that 
I  wondered  that  I  was  ever  enamored  of 
it  and  had  looked  upon  the  coming  of 
death  with  dread.  Why  should  I  think 
for  a  moment  of  leaving  the  new  life  with 
its  labors  and  joys  just  opened  to  me  ? 


\ 

176  BEYOND   rilE  BOURN. 

The  new  attractions  were  strong  and 
most  sweet ;  and  yet  there  was  a  tugging 
at  my  being,  which  in  spite  of  myself 
would  drag  me  back  toward  earth.  Why, 
I  knew  not,  and  I  struggled  to  resist  it. 
I  did  not  make  it  known  to  any,  for  I 
thought  I  could  overcome  it  and  it  would 
pass  away,  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem, 
my  beloved  ones  were  all  unconscious  of 
my  struggle.  At  a  fatal  moment  my 
power  of  resistance  seemed  to  give  way. 
The  glories  with  which  I  was  surrounded 
began  to  fade,  the  feeling  of  exaltation 
and  of  perfect  freedom  grew  numb  and 
vague,  and  I  was  aware  that  some  power 
against  which  I  was  helpless  was  tearing 
me  from  this  glorious  life  and  carrying 
me  back  to  earth. 

The  splendid  scenes  of  that  heavenly 
sphere  slipped  from  my  spiritual  con- 
sciousness ;  the  presence  of  my  friends 
and  of  my  celestial  environment  was  gone 
as  in  the  fitful  changes  of  a  dream,  and 
now  I  seemed  to  be  sweeping  through  the 
universe  with  the  speed  of  light, — through 


SNA  TCI/ED  FROM  HE  A  VENL  V  LIFE.     I J  J 

the  celestial  spaces,  past  the  rolling  stars 
and  the  revolving  systems.  Anon  I 
caught  sight  of  our  solar  worlds.  The 
sun,  flaming  and  surrounded  with  surging 
clouds  of  fire,  was  marching  on  his  ap- 
pointed course,  holding  the  planets  with 
the  strong  lines  of  attraction  as  they  spun 
in  their  circuits  around  him. 

I  saw  the  cold  and  distant  orb  of  Nep- 
tune, Jupiter  with  his  glowing  belts,  and 
Saturn  hung  in  his  flaming  circles. 
Swiftly  I  entered  the  field  in  which  these 
worlds  circled  in  their  appointed  lines, 
glided  past  the  moon  with  one  side  cold 
and  torpid,  the  other  shining  and  lumi- 
nous, and  all  wild  and  desolate. 

Then,  the  green  earth  grew  in  the  blue 
space,  till  seas  and  continents  were  visible 
and  mountains  and  valleys  began  to 
wrinkle  its  radiant  brow.  The  cities  and 
works  of  man  appeared  to  view,  and  I 
plunged,  as  it  were,  .into  the  very  earth, 
with  an  uncontrollable  impetus,  and  was 
in  darkness  and  oblivion. 

The  racking  pains,  the  unspeakable  tor- 


178  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

tures  with  which  I  rose  from  that  gulf,  no 
human  tongue  can  tell.  First  there  was 
a  glimmer  of  consciousness  that  went  out 
in  torment,  and  came  again  a  little 
stronger.  Presently  I  was  aware  of  hu- 
man forms  gliding  about  me  and  minis- 
tering as  to  a  sick  person.  Suddenly  the 
sad  fact  forced  itself  on  my  enfeebled 
mind  that  I  was  back  in  that  bruised  and 
disfigured  body,  and  must  live  on  earth 
again.  Fervently  I  prayed  to  be  released, 
but  the  vital  flame  was  rekindled  in  my 
poor  body,  and  my  infatuated  fellow  be- 
ings, instead  of  kindly  quenching  it,  did 
all  in  their  power  to  foster  it  into  vigor. 

I  turned  from  the  light  and  tried  to 
bury  myself  in  oblivion  again.  I  rebelled 
against  the  well-meant  ministrations  of 
the  living,  and  longed  for  death,  not  be- 
cause my  bodily  sufferings  were  intolera- 
ble, but  because  I  blessed  death  for  its 
own  sake  and  yearned  to  go  back  through 
it  to  the  blissful  life  from  which  I  had 
been  snatched. 

I  need  not  tell  the  story  of  my  mortal 


SAT  A  ran  ED  from  he  a  venl  y  life.   1 79 

sufferings,  the  tedious  process  of  recover- 
ing bodily  health  and  strength.  It  will 
suffice  to  reveal,  what  I  had  to  learn  from 
others,  that  for  three  days  I  had  been  as 
one  among  the  dead.  My  body  was  ter- 
ribly bruised  and  burned  and,  it  was 
thought,  internally  injured.  When  taken 
from  the  wreck  of  the  railroad  train  I  was 
supposed  to  be  already  dead,  but  a  certain 
flush  and  a  quivering  of  the  flesh  made 
the  doctors  doubt. 

In  a  rude  farm-house  I  was  laid,  and 
every  appliance  was  used  to  call  me  back 
to  life.  My  burns  were  painted  over  to 
keep  off  the  corrupting  air,  and  my  cuts 
and  bruises  bandaged,  and  yet  corruption 
threatened  and  a  sickening  odor  made  my 
care  a  burden  to  the  kind-hearted  stran- 
gers. Restoratives  were  constantly  used, 
although  but  the  vaguest  signs  of  life 
could  be  evoked. 

On  the  third  day  the  task  of  resuscita- 
tion was  given  up  as  hopeless,  and  the 
doctors  pronounced  me  dead.  I  was  un- 
known   to    those  who    attended   me,  and 


l8o  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

nothing  on  my  person  gave  an)  clew  to 
my  home  or  friends,  and  so  they  had  be- 
gun to  make  preparations  to  bury  me  on 
that  green  ridge  in  Vermont  where  the 
railroad  accident  had  thrown  me. 

Scarcely  had  these  preparations  begun 
when  a  spasmodic  motion  and  a  flutter  of 
the  heart  showed  that  life  was  still  there, 
and  the  efforts  at  restoration  were  re- 
newed. These,  and  the  feeble  force  of 
vitality  still  in  the  body,  together  with 
the  will  of  God,  had  drawn  my  soul  back 
from  the  sweet  heavens  and  the  glorious 
life  there  and  imprisoned  it  again  in  the 
mortal  frame.     I  revived. 

I  was  finally  taken  to  friends  whom  I 
could  still  recall  ;  and  in  the  course  of 
tedious  months  I  could  walk  forth  again. 

Since  that  time  I  have  been  as  a  lonely 
exile,  far  away  from  his  home.  Others 
may  say  it  is  a  delusion  and  a  dream,  but 
I  know  that  my  soul  was  for  those  three 
days  parted  from  the  body,  and  that  I 
had  a  taste  of  the  immortal  life. 

I  walk  among  men,  but  no  more  am  of 


SNA  TCHED  FROM  HE  A  VENL  Y  LIFE.    1 8 1 

them.  All  their  affairs  seem  to  me  petty 
and  trivial.  What  they  value  most,  I 
value  least  of  all  ;  and  my  thoughts  are 
ever  with  the  blessed  beings  in  the  great 
heavens,  and  dwelling  on  mysteries  yet 
unfathomed. 

I  have  never  spoken  of  this  experience 
to  mortal  man,  for  I  know  that  it  is  im- 
possible for  men  to  comprehend  or  be- 
lieve it.  They  would  regard  me  as  a  luna- 
tic and  treat  me  accordingly.  So  I  have 
kept  my  secret ;  and  tried  to  bide  my  time 
to  return  to  the  life  from  which  I  was 
torn  away  when  hardly  past  the  thresh- 
old. 

In  pondering  the  mystery  of  my  return 
through  the  portals  of  death,  it  has  oc- 
curred to  me  that  there  was  a  divine  pur- 
pose in  it.  There  was  need  of  a  new  rev- 
elation regarding  the  life  and  destiny  of 
the  human  soul,  and  I  was  chosen  to 
make  it. 

Humbly,  meekly,  I  have  adopted  this 
interpretation  of  the  mystery  and  tried 
simply  to  tell  the  world  my  experience, 


1 82  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

wherein,  if  anywhere,  lies  the  revelation. 
I  do  not  wish  to  be  known  to  my  fellow 
men,  and  desire  that  the  identity  of  him 
who  went  through  the  gateway  of  death 
to  the  life  beyond  and  returned  against 
his  will,  shall  be  a  secret.  And  that  I  may 
be  speedily  removed  from  a  life  in  which 
I  now  account  my  mission  fulfilled,  to  the 
life  I  know  to  be  so  much  higher  and 
better,  is  my  constant  prayer. 


[The  foregoing  narrative  constituted 
the  bulk  of  the  manuscript  which  the 
mysterious  Mr.  Jameson  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  editor  of  this  volume. 
Whether  the  experience  which  he  pro- 
fessed to  have  had  while  apparently  un- 
conscious from  the  injuries  received  in  a 
railroad  accident,  was  real  or  imaginary, 
is  not  for  the  present  writer  to  judge. 
That  he  believed  it  to  be  real,  there  is  no 
reason  to  doubt. 

Accompanying  the  narrative,  but  sepa- 
rate from  it,  was  an  essay,  evidently  in- 


SJVA  TCHED  FROM  HE  A  VENL  V  LIFE.    I  83 

tended  as  a  statement  of  opinions  and 
conclusions  founded  on  the  remarkable 
experience  related.  Probably  it  was  writ- 
ten before  the  narrative,  and  originally 
meant  to  stand  alone  as  an  expression  of 
the  writer's  views,  without  any  explana- 
tion of  the  experience  from  which  they 
were  derived.  There  was,  however,  no 
prefatory  explanation  and  the  editor  does 
not  feel  entitled  to  supply  the  omission 
of  the  author.  He  simply  regards  the 
paper  as  part  of  the  ''  revelation "  en- 
trusted to  him,  and  submits  it  with  the 
rest  to  such  judgment  as  it  may  invite. 
It  follows  this.] 


XII. 

man's  revelation  to  man. 

Of  the  long  period  between  the  devel- 
opment of  the  race  of  man  from  its  an- 
cestry of  brutes  and  the  dawn  of  history 
at  which  it  began  to  set  up  enduring  and 
intelligible  monuments,  we  know  nothing 
save  by  scientific  inference.  The  knowl- 
edge to  be  derived  from  the  oldest  surviv- 
ing monuments  and  the  first  imperfect 
records  has  still  to  be  largely  supplied  by 
inferences  drawn  from  later  history.  It 
is  the  light  of  modern  study  and  recent 
reasoning,  cast  over  the  past,  that  illu- 
mines that  far-off  dawn  sufficiently  to 
give  meaning  to  its  broken  and  defaced 
tablets,  and  to  bring  out  the  story  which 
its  confused  and  patched-up  records 
contain. 

All  human  history  is   a   revelation    of 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.       1 85 

man  to  man,  and  since  the  spiritual  in- 
stinct began  to  work  in  the  offspring  of 
generations  of  brutes  it  has  soudit  ex- 
pression  in  ways  and  forms  that  have 
been  called  religion.  These  ways  and 
forms  have  varied  with  the  characteristics 
impressed  upon  the  peoples  among  which 
they  have  appeared,  by  the  circumstances 
of  their  origin  and  experience.  Men  of 
the  clearest  insight  and  loftiest  concep- 
tions have  built  up  and  modified  religions, 
and  thereby  became  prophets  and  priests. 
They  have  formed  conceptions  of  a  Deity 
behind  things  visible  and  behind  the  life 
of  man.  They  have  spoken  for  their  God 
and  been  accepted  as  His  interpreters. 

There  has  been  evermore  a  strueele  to 
understand  this  earthly  life  and  to  guide 
its  course  to  the  highest  good.  There 
have  also  been  yearnings  for  a  life  beyond 
this  brief  and  troubled  span,  and  various 
dreams  of  the  soul's  final  destiny.  Men 
who  have  risen  above  the  spiritual  level 
of  their  time  and  presented  loftier  views 
of  the  human  and  divine  have  seemed  to 


1 86  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

their  generation  to  make  revelations  from 
on  high. 

The  notion  of  direct  Divine  revelation, 
by  means  of  miraculous  manifestations, 
has  sprung  from  the  inability  of  common 
men  to  comprehend  the  sources  of  the 
wisdom  of  seers  and  prophets.  God  works 
always  and  everywhere  throughout  his 
creation.  Everything — whether  material 
or  spiritual — is  a  revelation  of  Him,  and 
that  revelation  grows  clearer  as  the  soul 
increases  in  power  and  comprehension. 
External  manifestations  of  His  power 
and  will  through  fire  and  whirlwind 
are  not  the  methods  of  divine  revelation 
and  never  were,  but,  as  the  old  Hebrew 
prophet  tells  us,  it  is  in  "  the  still  small 
voice  "  that  speaks  only  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  such  human  spirits  as  can  hear  it. 
When  the  more  violent  and  awful  phe- 
nomena of  nature  were  not  understood,  it 
was  natural  to  attribute  them  to  the  im- 
mediate presence  and  working  of  deity, 
and  to  connect  with  them  the  oracles  of 
God, 


MAN'S  KE VELA  TION  TO  MAN.       1  %J 

In  rude  times  the  great  minds  among 
the  people  were  wont  to  represent  their 
thoughts  and  teachings  as  direct  revela- 
tions from  God,  and  even  themselves  re- 
garded them  as  such.  The  manner  in 
which  these  revelations  had  been  com- 
municated to  them  was  surrounded  with 
myster}'  to  make  them  the  more  impres- 
sive and  effective,  and  their  mystery  was 
exaggerated  and  amplified  by  those  who 
put  them  on  record,  until  men  came  to 
regard  them  not  only  as  sacred  but  of  lit- 
erally divine  origin.  The  rude  devices  of 
a  primitive  age  to  impress  a  superstitious 
people  with  awe  and  to  hold  them  in  re- 
straint have  been  long  after  regarded  as 
holy  agencies  through  which  God  Himself 
has  made  known  His  will. 

From  age  to  age  new  ideas  were  taught 
among  the  same  people,  or  another  people 
springing  up  with  different  surroundings 
and  a  different  experience  had  new  con- 
ceptions of  life  and  of  human  destiny,  and 
a  new  religion  was  built  up  or  the  old  one 
modified.     The  religion  of  a  period  or  of 


1 88  BEYOND  THE  BOURN, 

a  race  lias  always  been  the  expression 
more  or  less  perfect  of  man's  desires  and 
longings,  and  of  the  best  means  he  could 
devise  for  their  satisfaction.  It  has  been 
the  outgrowth  of  the  people's  minds,  the 
people's  experience,  and  what  they  have 
learned  of  the  life  and  experience  that 
preceded  them. 

Nothing  that  has  been  called  revelation 
has  a  divine  perfection  or  a  divine  origin, 
except  as  the  ultimate  origin  of  every- 
thing is  divine  ;  and  those  older  teachings 
and  philosophies  which  men  are  wont  to 
revere  as  sacred,  are  farther  from  truth 
and  less  sacred  than  the  conceptions  of 
later  days. 

Man's  religion  in  its  latest  form, 
grounded  on  his  highest  knowledge,  illu- 
mined by  his  clearest  reason,  inspired  by 
his  loftiest  conceptions,  is  nearest  the 
everlasting  truth,  and  his  best  revelation 
is  the  last.  He  can  have  no  revelation 
except  of  his  own  making.  He  began  it 
with  the  first  groping  of  the  intellect,  the 
first  germ   of    the   moral    sense,  the   first 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.       1 89 

flicker  of  the  aspiring  spirit.  When  it  is 
finished  his  destiny  will  be  complete. 

What  is  this  Holy  Bible  which  men  call 
the  Word  of  God? 

Consider  the  universe  of  rolling  worlds 
inhabited  by  the  creatures  of  the  animat- 
ing power  that  fills  it,  and  think  of  its 
development  through  a^ons  from  the 
primeval  chaos !  On  its  myriad  spheres 
are  various  forms  and  stages  of  life,  and 
many  degrees  of  growth  toward  the  per- 
fection which  is  the  ultimate  object  of 
creative  power.  Consider  the  infinite 
spaces,  already  peopled  with  souls  that 
have  had  their  start  in  life  upon  those 
many  spheres,  and  destined  to  be  the  eter- 
nal home  of  the  spiritual  offspring  of  God, 
when  there  shall  be  no  further  use  for  the 
material  part  of  the  universe  !  On  one 
small  planet  amid  these  myriads,  is  this 
race  ot  ours,  struggling  and  contending 
in  the  early  stages  of  moral  and  spiritual 
development,  but  with  brightening  hopes 
for   each    new    generation. 

The  race  of  man  knows  little  of  its  actual 


190  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

origin  upon  the  planet  which  it  inhabits 
and  less  of  the  origin  of  the  planet  itself, 
but  it  has  an  imperfect  record  of  the  doings 
and  achievements  of  the  various  branches 
of  which  it  is  composed.  It  can  trace 
its  own  progress  from  the  darkness  of  bar- 
barism to  the  comparatively  clear  light 
that  it  is  now  attaining.  Its  students  can 
see  how,  at  some  time  and  among  some 
peculiarly  endowed  people  the  artistic 
sense  grew  to  a  high  development  and 
left  its  heritage ;  how  at  another  stage 
and  in  another  place  there  was  a  develop- 
ment of  the  organizing  and  instituting 
power,  and  the  secret  of  regulating  and 
governing  was  in  part  disclosed,  to  be 
more  fully  revealed  by  experience  and 
growth  ;  and  all  through  human  history 
is  visible  the  growing  recognition  of 
moral  principles  by  which  conduct  must 
be  regulated  in  order  that  the  race  may 
survive  and  advance  toward  perfection. 
When  means  of  expression  and  commu- 
nication were  found,  there  came  the  writ- 
ten words  through  which  the  needs,  the  as- 


MAN'S  RE  VELA  TION  TO  MAN.       1 9 1 

pirations,  the  thoughts  and  imaginings  of 
men  found  vent,  and  literature  became 
the  great  agency  of  progress. 

The  universe  is  full  of  God's  language. 
The  man  of  science  that  ascertains  a 
truth,  reveals  the  word  of  God  far  more 
truly  than  the  oracles  of  the  ancient  peo- 
ples of  the  world. 

The  Bible  contains  in  its  oldest  part 
the  writings  of  the  earliest  people  whose 
history  we  know  with  any  fulness,  and 
the  religion  which  we  have  been  taught  to 
revere,  sprang  out  of  the  religion  of  that 
people.  Hence  it  is  that  such  a  special 
sacredness  has  been  attached  to  that  mass 
of  ancient  literature.  Much  of  it  no 
doubt  is  sacred,  for  all  truth  is  sacred  and 
every  good  precept  is  holy,  wherever  it 
may  be  found  ;  but  the  view  which  so 
many  still  take  of  those  old  writings  is 
mainly  due  to  the  survival  of  ignorance 
and  superstition. 

As  we  look  back  over  the  progress  of 
the  human  race,  do  we  not  see  how  after 
many    glimmerings    and     gropings,     the 


192  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

artistic  sense  in  man,  the  love  of  the 
beautiful  and  refined,  the  genial  amenities 
and  humanities  of  life,  and  the  spirit  of 
philosophic  inquiry,  received  a  wonderful 
impulse  and  development  in  the  little 
land  of  Greece?  A  people  grew  up 
there  with  a  genius  for  those  factors  in 
human  progress.  Do  we  not  find  a  little 
later  another  people  in  a  neighboring 
land  with  a  genius  for  aggressive  force 
and  conquest,  for  organization  and  law, 
for  government  and  rule?  These  two 
peoples  made  their  contributions  to  what 
we  have  been  wont  to  call  civilization, 
and  the  heritage  passed  to  later  times  in 
the  results  of  their  history  and  in  their 
literature. 

More  important  than  the  artistic 
sense,  and  the  instinct  for  refinement, 
more  essential  to  permanent  progress 
than  the  sense  of  power  and  the  instinct 
for  orderly  rule,  was  the  moral  sense, 
inciting  mankind  to  right  conduct 
toward  each  other,  and  the  recognition  of 
obligation  to  a  power  above   themselves. 


MA N  'S  RE  VELA  TION  TO  MA N.       1 9  3 

This  sense  of  duty  was  implanted  in  the 
human  race  with  its  other  qualities,  and 
along  with  those  it  struggled  for  the  mas- 
tery;  but  like  the  peculiar  aptitude  of 
the  Greek  and  of  the  Roman  to  teach  the 
world  in  their  great  departments  of  ad- 
vancement, so  also  a  special  genius  for 
moral  and  spiritual  development  sprang 
up  among  the  nomadic  tribes  of  Arabia, 
and  worked  itself  out  in  the  Jewish  relig- 
ion and  the  Hebrew  polity. 

The  half-mythical  ancestor  of  Israel, 
the  Chaldaean  chief  Abraham,  the  first  to 
substitute  the  slaughter  of  animals  for 
human  sacrifices  among  his  people,  and 
to  do  away  with  the  grosser  rites  of  the 
worship  of  those  dark  times,  gave  to 
man  the  earliest  exalted  conception  of  a 
deity.  Involved  in  the  obscurity  of  myth, 
crudely  reduced  to  matter-of-fact  state- 
ment by  prosaic  writers,  whatever  person- 
ality was  behind  the  august  title  of  Abra- 
ham stood  for  a  great  moral  and  relig- 
ious genius.  From  the  gods  of  his 
pagan  ancestors  and  kindred  he  chose  for 


194  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

the  worship  of  his  tribe  the  Most  High, 
the  invisible  creator  of  all  gods  and  the 
father  of  men.  But  more  than  that,  in 
paternal  and  patriarchal  relation  to  his 
people,  he  conceived  a  lofty  idea  of  puri- 
ty in  domestic  and  social  life  and  of  justice 
and  integrity  in  the  dealings  of  men.  From 
such  conceptions  he  clothed  his  God  with 
the  mystic  attributes  of  justice,  love  and 
mercy,  mingled  with  those  of  awful  power 
proper  to  a  mighty  ruler.  So  far  as  we 
can  discover  in  the  mists  of  that  far-off 
dawn  of  human  history,  Abraham,  or  the 
genius  for  which  that  name  has  stood  for 
ages,  was  the  first  to  inculcate  submis- 
sion and  fidelity  to  the  will  of  a  higher 
power  as  a  means  of  progress  and  eleva- 
tion for  mankind. 

Under  the  impulse  of  this  great  con- 
ception the  tribal  and  local  deities  of  the 
ancestors  of  Israel,  which  superstition  had 
created  among  them  as  among  all  primi- 
tive peoples,  took  a  single  personification, 
and  men  began  to  look  up  to  one  God. 
At  first  he  was  the  God  of  the  tribe,  of  a 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.       1 95 

single  people,  jealous  of  all  other  gods  ; 
then  he  was  the  sovereign  and  ruler  of 
the  nation  that  sprang  from  that  people  ; 
and  finally,  as  the  nation  came  to  struggle 
for  existence  with  other  nations,  it  mag- 
nified its  God  into  the  creator  of  the 
earth  and  its  destined  ruler,  after  the  sub- 
jugation of  all  other  peoples  to  the  sway  of 
the  chosen  of  Jehovah.  The  conception 
of  God  has  gone  through  as  remarkable 
an  evolution  as  any  other  conception  of 
the  human  mind,  and  the  theocratic  sys- 
tem of  the  ancient  Hebrews  did  much  for 
its  development. 

But  it  is  impossible  to  identify  the 
Jehovah  of  Israel  with  the  conception  of 
deity  that  must  be  derived  from  the 
knowledge  that  the  human  race  has  ac- 
quired in  later  ages.  The  Hebrews  had 
their  men  of  purely  human  genius  as  well 
as  other  ancient  peoples,  and  one  of  these 
was  that  leader  and  law-giver  who  res- 
cued them  from  Egyptian  slavery  and 
restored  them  to  the  land  which  they  re- 
garded   as    their    heritage,    where     they 


196  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

built  up  a  nation  througli  many  struggles 
and  contests.  Moses  gained  and  main- 
tained his  ascendancy  for  the  great  work- 
he  had  to  do  by  appealing  to  the  people's 
reverence  for  the  God  of  .Abraham,  and 
by  developing  and  elevating  their  concep- 
tion of  that  deity.  Instead  of  assuming 
to  be  a  leader  and  a  law-giver  himself,  he 
invested  Jehovah  with  those  functions 
and  made  him  the  sovereign.  That  was 
not  onl)'  a  stroke  of  political  genius,  but 
it  marked  a  great  advance  in  the  people's 
conception  of  their  God.  It  was  natural 
that  this  unseen  ruler  should  have  the 
characteristics  of  an  Oriental  despot.  At 
first  he  had  even  to  be  cruel  and  ruthless, 
vengeful  and  jealous,  bloodthirsty  ami 
terrible,  for  the  people  could  not  be  ruled 
without  severity.  Their  God  must  be 
feared.  He  was  terrible  in  his  anger  and 
fierce  in  his  punishments,  and  he  thun- 
dered his  commands  on  the  mountain 
tops  and  his  threats  in  the  tempest. 

The  worship  of  Jehovah  by  bloody  sac- 
rifices and  burnt  offerings,  to  placate  His 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.       1 97 

wrath  and  to  win  His  favor,  was  the  tra- 
ditional form  of  worship  for  the  pagan 
gods  whicli  the  superstitious  infancy  of 
the  human  race  had  set  up.  But  the 
higher  conceptions  upon  which  it  was 
based  purged  it  of  the  grosser  rights  of 
Hcentiousness  that  had  prevailed  in  the 
personification  of  the  productive  powers  of 
nature.  The  precepts  and  commands  of 
Jehovah  dealt  with  the  material  well-being 
of  the  subjects  of  His  sovereignty.  As 
the  people  advanced  in  enlightenment 
under  their  great  leaders  and  teachers 
the  sway  of  Jehovah  was  extended  and 
exalted. 

More  and  more  the  element  of  right- 
eousness and  justice  assumed  prominence, 
while  that  of  loving-kindness  and  tender 
mercy  began  to  assert  itself.  The  God 
of  Job  and  of  the  later  Psalms  is  a  differ- 
ent being  from  the  God  of  the  Penta- 
teuch and  the  earlier  annals.  But  the 
conception  never  reached  a  lofty  height, 
compared  to  wliat  is  to  be  derived  from 
modern  knowledge  and  reason  regarding 


198  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

the  beneficent  and  all  pervading  Spirit  of 
the  universe.  The  early  moral  standards 
of  the  Jews,  even  when  attributed  di- 
rectly to  Jehovah,  were  not  very  high. 
Their  conceptions  of  life  never  went  be- 
yond the  earth,  scarcely  beyond  that  land 
in  -which  they  lived.  Their  religion  was 
mainly  patriotism  ;  and  their  priestly  and 
prophetic  teachings  were  chiefly  politics, 
with  little  of  spirituality,  though  slowly 
the  moral  sense  was  lifted  up  and 
strengthened.  They  had  no  idea  of  im- 
mortality or  of  life  after  death,  except 
that  of  a  vague  and  shadowy  continuance 
in  the  darkness  of  the  underworld.  Their 
precepts,  their  warnings,  their  promises 
and  threats,  derived  as  they  believed, 
from  their  unseen  Ruler,  related  only  to 
their  earthly  welfare.  Those  whom  they 
called  prophets  were  concerned  for  their 
social  and  political  condition  as  a  people 
and  their  fate  as  a  nation,  more  than  for 
individual  conduct  and  personal  well-be- 
ing. 

Looking  from   the  height    of    modern 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN       1 99 

intellectual  and  moral  attainment,  can  we 
not  see  just  how  important  to  that  which 
we  were  wont  to  call  '*  modern  civilization  " 
was  this  Hebrew  development  of  the  idea 
of  moral  obligation,  and  of  responsibility 
to  a  higher  power,  crude  as  it  was  ?  But 
was  it  so  much  more  essential  than  the 
social  and  aesthetic  development  that 
sprang  out  of  Hellas,  or  the  conquer- 
ing and  organizing  genius  to  which 
Rome  gave  birth?  Were  not  even  the 
Greek  intelligence  and  the  Roman  power 
indispensable  to  the  culture  and  dissemi- 
nation of  the  Hebrew  morality  in  the 
world  ?  No  bodily  member  is  more  es- 
sential than  another ; — all  are  requisite. 
Was  the  literature  in  which  the  Hebrew 
experience  was  embodied  and  preserved 
to  after  time  more  truly  sacred  or  more 
inspired  by  the  God  of  the  universe  than 
that  which  treasured  up  the  other  ele- 
ments of  human  advancement  toward 
perfection  ?  It  seemed  so,  because  it  re- 
lated to  moral  duty  and  to  the  sentiments 
that  controlled  moral  conduct  and  spirit 


200  BEYOND   THE  BOURN. 

ual  growth  ;  but,  looking  over  the  whole 
ground,  was  it  ? 

We  know  now  that  this  Holy  Bible  was 
a  collection  of  writings  gathered  together 
at  a  late  period  in  the  Jewish  history  by 
priests  and  scribes  from  a  mass  of  ac- 
cumulated material.  There  was  no  at- 
tempt to  make  it  consistent  or  harmo- 
nious. It  contains  the  imperfections 
characteristic  of  the  time,  the  people 
and  the  circumstances  of  its  produc- 
tion. 

There  is  a  rude  attempt  to  account  for 
the  origin  of  the  world  and  its  inhabi- 
tants, such  as  has  been  made  by  every 
distinct  people  on  the  earth,  almost  as 
soon  as  it  has  begun  to  keep  written 
records.  The  Hebrew  attempt,  like  the 
others,  had  the  characteristics  of  an  im- 
perfect stage  of  intellectual  development. 
It  showed  ignorance  of  material  things 
and  of  natural  phenomena  and  the  super- 
stition of  a  primitive  time,  for  it  was 
made  before  the  light  of  science  and  phi- 
losophy had   risen    upon    the   world.     Of 


MAN^S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.       20I 

course  it  cannot  be  reconciled  with  the 
knowledge  of  later  ages. 

Such    an    attempt    to  account  for  the 
origin  of  the  earth  and  the  human   race 
was  a  natural   prelude  to   the  annals  of 
the  nation.     It  was  followed  by  a  half- 
mythical    account    of    the    origin    of  the 
"  chosen  people,"  derived  from  the  tradi- 
tions of  the   Hebrew  race,  and  then  the 
annals  gradually  emerged  from  the  legen- 
dary  form  into  a  clearer  history.    But  they 
were  made  up  by  a  mingling  of  traditions 
and  conjectures  with  fragmentary  and  in- 
consistent   records,    and    were   generally 
crude   \n  composition   and  arrangement, 
often  conflicting  and   in  many  points  in- 
credible.     And   yet   from    the  imperfect 
record    man    has    been    able   to  derive  a 
knowledge,  made   constantly   clearer   by 
rational  study,  of  the  origin,  early  strug- 
gles, vigorous  growth  and  ultimate  decay 
of  the   nation   from  which  some    of   our 
loftiest  conceptions  have  been  derived. 

Mingled  with  these  rude  annals   were 
stories  of  leaders   and   rulers,  seers   and 


202  BEYOND  THE  BOURN, 

prophets,  of  great  men  and  of  humble 
persons,  from  which  valuable  lessons  were 
to  be  gained,  as  from  other  ancient  tales 
of  human  experience.  There  too  were 
found  the  regulations  and  commands  of 
law-givers,  the  thoughts  and  speculations 
of  wise  men,  the  dreams  and  aspirations 
of  poets,  and  the  teachings,  warnings  and 
hopeful  anticipations  of  those  who  have 
been  called  prophets,  but  whose  prophe- 
sying was  not  so  much  a  matter  of  pre- 
diction as  of  lofty  political  and  personal 
morality,  with  threats  and  promises,  at- 
tributed to  Jehovah  and  dependent  tor  ful- 
filment upon  the  conduct  of  the  people. 

This  was  a  literature  of  an  altogether 
human  kind,  offspring  of  the  character, 
thought,  feeling  and  experience  of  a 
people — an  expression  of  the  results  of 
their  life,  preserved  for  the  instruction  of 
later  generations  of  men.  Therein  it  was 
like  other  literatures,  but  in  its  religious 
aspect  it  was  superior  to  that  of  other 
ancient  peoples  in  that  it  enshrined  the 
experiences   and    teachings    of   a    longer 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.      203 

line  of  men  of  a  higher  moral  and  spirit- 
ual grade.  The  peculiar  religious  genius 
of  the  Hebrew  race  resulted  in  filling  its 
erratic  and  imperfect  literature  with  a 
larger  proportion  of  permanent  truth 
affecting  the  life  and  conduct  of  men  than 
had  been  gained  by  others,  and  this  gave 
it  a  powerful  and  lasting  influence. 

How  petty  are  the  long  disputations  of 
the  devoutly  learned  upon  the  sacredness 
of  Scripture,  revelation  of  the  divine  will 
and  inspirations  of  the  authors  of  the 
old  Hebrew  writings.  Is  not  God  in- 
finite spirit,  pervading  the  universe  with 
His  presence  and  power  and  inspiring  the 
whole  movement  of  creation  toward  a 
perfect  development  which  is  still  far 
from  completed  ?  Has  not  His  inspira- 
tion wrought  in  all  the  processes  of  this 
development,  in  all  worlds,  in  all  races,  in 
all  history,  in  all  literatures,  tending  to 
the  one  divine  purpose  of  lifting  the  off- 
spring of  God  into  harmony  with  him- 
self ?  Is  not  divine  inspiration  in  every 
religion,  to   the  extent    that    the    people 


204  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

cherishing  that  religion  have  the  capacity 
for  giving  expression  to  the  divine  that  is 
in  man  ? 

To  men  on  this  earth  the  sources  of 
revelation  are  the  earth  itself,  the  uni- 
verse of  which  it  is  a  part,  and  man's  own 
nature  and  history.  The  meaning  of 
these  is  truth,  and  man  is  left  to  find  out 
truth  with  the  aid  of  that  within  him 
which  is  divine.  The  more  knowledge  he 
acquires  and  the  more  accurately  he  rea- 
sons upon  what  he  learns  the  nearer  will 
he  come  to  divine  truth,  and  the  greater 
will  be  his  capacity  for  feeling  the  signifi- 
cance of  this  truth  in  relation  to  himself 
and  to  deity.  The  revelations  of  science 
and  reason,  and  the  intuitions  of  the  phi- 
losophy which  they  inspire  are  more  sa- 
cred than  the  dreams  and  oracles  of  seers 
and  prophets  who  lived  before  the  dawn 
of  knowledge  dispelled  superstition. 

The  later  times  are  the  wiser,  and  have 
more  of  that  inspiration  which  leads  to 
the  practical  expression  of  truth  than  was 
possible  in  the    old    days,  however  deep 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.       20$ 

may  have  been  the  insight  into  the 
human  heart  of  some  of  the  ancient  teach- 
ers. Is  it  not  folly  to  cling  to  old  writ- 
ings that  are  filled  with  the  errors  of 
ignorant  and  superstitious  ages  as  pecul- 
iarly sacred  scripture,  or  more  the  word 
of  God  than  is  the  expression  of  the  knowl- 
edge, thought  and  spiritual  life  of  later 
times?  In  so  far  as  they  contain  truth  in 
harmony  with  ascertained  facts  in  the 
realm  of  physical  and  human  nature  they 
may  be  held  sacred  ;  but  in  the  same  sense 
all  writings  that  embody  truth  regarding 
the  nature  and  destiny  of  man  are  sacred. 
The  study  of  all  old  literatures  is  in- 
structive to  mankind,  and  most  of  all  that 
— whether  Hebrew  or  heathen — which  re- 
veals the  origin  and  development  of  the 
moral  sense  and  of  the  religious  instincts 
and  aspirations.  But  man  has  wandered 
through  a  maze  of  darkness  and  error  as 
the  result  of  fixing  his  faith  too  exclu- 
sively upon  a  gathering  of  Books  collected 
by  the  priests  and  scribes  of  an  outgrown 
religion  in  a  bygone  age  and  pronounced 


206  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

"sacred"  by  the  leaders  of  theological 
systems  that  have  become  antiquated. 
Yet  he  is  even  now  emerging  into  the 
light  where  he  can  see  that  each  genera- 
tion must  make  its  own  scriptures  and  its 
own  revelations.  Holding  fast  that  which 
is  good  in  the  revelations  of  the  past, 
shall  he  not  make  the  utmost  use  of  the 
greater  light  that  is  shed  upon  his  path- 
way and  recognize  its  source  as  divine? 

What  is  that  doctrine  of  Evolution 
which  so  clearly  explains  the  development 
of  the  material  world  and  of  physical  life 
upon  our  planet  but  a  new  interpretation 
of  the  working  of  divine  power?  Has 
not  that  divine  power  wrought  by  an 
analogous  process  of  progressive  develop- 
ment toward  symmetry  and  perfection 
through  the  intellectual  and  moral  forces 
that  operate  in  the  spiritual  nature  of 
man  ?  Was  not  the  soul  of  man  itself 
brought  into  being  by  evolution  from  the 
elements  of  sentient  life  through  long 
generations  of  brute  ancestry,  and  has  it 
not  been  working  toward    its  destiny  of 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN       207 

divine  life  under  those  orderly  processes 
even  until  now  ?  Is  it  not  the  all-pervad- 
ing spirit  of  the  universe  that  works  in 
the  human  race  toward  the  fulness  of 
spiritual  life  in  man,  which  was  the  object 
of  creation  ? 

In  the  stern  old  Hebrew  race  was  de- 
veloped the  conception  of  purity  in  hu- 
man life  and  of  righteousness  in  human 
conduct,  and  with  the  inextinguishable 
torch  of  this  high  conception  they  strug- 
gled against  the  darkness  of  surrounding 
barbarism.  If  they  imagined  a  terrible 
God,  who  promised  them  greatness  and 
power  as  the  reward  of  obedience  to  his 
commands  and  threatened  dire  calamities 
as  the  punishment  of  disobedience,  it  was 
through  their  faith  in  this  mighty  unseen 
Ruler  that  they  kept  alive  the  flame  of 
that  moral  sense  that  was  to  elevate  man- 
kind from  their  primal  stage  of  animalism, 
until  a  greater  than  the  seers  and  prophets 
should  arise  to  light  a  beacon  with  their 
torch.  It  was  the  great  Jehovah  and  his 
worship,  with  all  the  awful  sanctions  with 


208  BEYOND  THE  BOURK. 

wliich  it  was  surrounded,  that  kept  the 
Hebrews  up  to  their  great  task  of  incul- 
cating righteousness  and  the  submission 
of  the  brute  in  man  to  the  di\ine. 

After  the  long  ferment  of  Judaism  in 
the  bosom  of  a  single  race,  working  out 
the  sense  of  duty  and  of  tlie  relationship 
of  man  with  the  power  that  made  him, 
while  other  qualities  of  the  human  soul 
were  undergoing  development  in  various 
parts  of  the  world,  there  came  the  break- 
ing over  of  the  dividing  lines  and  a  co- 
alescence of  the  forces  of  mental  and 
moral  evolution.  Wherein  is  that  span 
of  human  history  from  the  scattering  of 
the  Hebrew  nation  to  the  appearance  of 
the  great  Teacher  of  Galilee  less  sacred 
than  that  which  preceded  it,  or  the  wide 
and  varied  literature  in  which  the  experi- 
ence of  humanity  outside  the  Jewish  race 
was  then  recorded  less  the  embodiment 
of  revelation  for  man  than  the  Jewish 
Scriptures  ?  In  that  long  period,  although 
the  Hebrews  were  in  a  non-productive 
and      spiritually     apathetic     state — their 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.       209 

prophets  dumb,  their  priests  fanatical, 
their  people  crushed — yet  both  within  and 
without  their  borders  the  forces  were 
working  which  prepared  the  way  for  the 
next  decisive  process  in  the  course  of 
moral  and  spiritual  evolution. 

The  development  of  a  high  moral  sense 
and  of  lofty  spiritual  conceptions  of  man's 
relation  and  destiny  was  by  no  means 
confined  to  the  Hebrew  race,  which  found 
something  to  borrow  from  the  Assyrian 
and  Persian  mythologies.  It  appeared  in 
the  teachings  of  the  Chinese  Confucius, 
and  took  an  exalted  form  in  the  doctrines 
of  the  Hindoo  Gautama.  In  no  small  de- 
gree it  wrought  upon  Greek  philosophy 
through  Plato  and  Socrates,  and  was  im- 
pressed upon  the  better  part  of  Roman 
literature.  The  ferment  was  in  the  grow- 
ing human  race,  and  was  part  of  the 
method  of  its  moral  and  spiritual  evolu- 
tion. The  soul  of  man  was  groping  after 
a  knowledge  of  its  origin  and  its  destiny. 
It  was  working  out  a  revelation  of  both 
for    its    own    benefit,    and     it    contained 


2IO  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

within  itself  an  inspiration  that  bore  it 
ever  upward. 

The  religious  teachers  of  mankind  in 
all  times  and  all  lands  have  been  those  who 
had  the  deepest  insight  into  their  nature 
and  their  relations  in  life,  and  the  highest 
conceptions  of  their  moral  and  spiritual 
needs,  and  of  the  means  of  satisfying 
them.  Religious  systems  have  ever  been 
adapted  to  the  needs  of  the  time  and  the 
people  for  which  they  were  established, 
and  each  was  modified  or  displaced  as  the 
race  advanced  in  power  of  thought  and 
in  moral  strength  and  purity.  They 
were  the  best  means  for  spiritual  eleva- 
tion and  moral  advancement  that  the 
wisest  and  best  men  could  devise  for 
their  own  generation;  but  the  time  would 
always  come  when  they  hardened  into 
forms  that  repressed  growth  instead  of 
promoting  it. 

When  once  a  system  of  faith  and  of 
worship  had  been  fairly  outgrown,  one 
leader  after  another  would  struggle  with 
the  problem   of   replacing  it  with  some- 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.       21  I 

thing  adapted  to  a  new  era  of  progress, 
until  at  last  the  genius  would  appear  who 
had  greatness  of  soul  enough  to  solve 
that  problem  for  his  fellow  men  and  be- 
come their  savior  from  the  evils  which 
tend  to  degradation. 

Was  not  that  wonderful  teacher  in  Gali- 
lee such  a  genius?  Did  he  not  appear  as 
the  embodiment  of  a  protest  against  the 
grosser  and  harsher  phases  of  the  old  Jew- 
ish faith,  its  unspiritual  conception  of  God 
as  a  stern  ruler,  and  the  ceremonies  and  ob- 
servances through  which  His  worship  had 
become  a  dead  formality,  having  no  saving 
influence  on  the  conduct  of  men  ?  He  was 
filled  with  an  intense  sympathy  for  the 
needs  of  humanity  and  had  a  profound 
insight  that  enabled  him  to  bring  to  man- 
kind a  new  gospel  of  salvation.  Instead 
of  being  an  unnatural  (for  that  is  what  is 
meant  by  "  supernatural  ")  incarnation  of 
divine  power  and  wisdom,  he  was  the  in- 
carnation of  those  human  qualities  which 
constitute  moral  perfection,  the  outwork- 
ing of  the  divine  which   is   incarnated  in 


212  BEYOND  THE  BOURN'. 

the  imperfect  human  race.  He  had  by 
natural  endowment  the  ideal  character 
toward  which  the  human  race  was  aspir- 
ing and  striving,  and  toward  which  it 
must  strive  and  aspire  until  perfection  is 
reached.  It  was  that  which  gave  him  his 
lofty  conception  of  the  deity  as  the  Father 
of  mankind  instead  of  a  terrible  ruler  ;  and 
of  all  men  as  brethren  who  had  simply  to 
establish  the  fraternal  relation  in  their 
conduct  toward  each  other  in  order  to 
live  in  peace  and  happiness.  It  was  that 
which  raised  him  so  immeasurably  above 
all  other  teachers.  It  explains  his  com- 
prehension of  human  needs,  his  intense 
sympathy  and  earnestness,  and  his  power 
over  those  who  came  within  his  influence. 
It  makes  clear  also  the  wonderful  power 
which  his  personality  has  exercised  in 
the  world  ever  since  he  lived  and  died. 
Springing  from  a  single  branch  of  the  hu- 
man race,  he  had  in  perfection  the  noblest 
attributes  of  the  race  at  large,  and  all 
men  acknowledge  his  kinship. 

Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  an  embodiment 


HIAN'S  RE  VELA  TION  TO  MAN.       2  1 3 

of  the  moral  and  religious  genius  of  hu- 
manity, appearing  at  a  time  when  the  ele- 
ments and  process  of  human  progress 
were  prepared  to  receive  a  new  impulse. 
His  character  was  in  a  moral  and  spiritual 
sense  the  perfection  of  humanity,  and  it 
was  divine  in  the  sense  that  all  humanity 
is  divine  in  so  far  as  it  approaches  its 
state  of  destined  perfection.  Of  the  sec- 
ular interests  of  mankind  in  the  world  at 
large  he  knew  little,  and  to  them  he  gave 
little  thought.  Of  the  course  of  races 
and  nations  and  the  multifarious  activities 
of  life  on  its  practical  side  he  had  little 
conception.  In  him  the  spiritual  quali- 
ties of  human  nature  found  their  highest 
and  purest  embodiment  since  the  race 
began,  and  were  most  completely  freed 
from  the  qualities  that  pertain  to  its 
physical  origin  and  its  physical  needs. 
Hence  his  soul  was  in  close  sympathy 
with  the  spirit  of  divinity  that  pervades 
the  universe  and  dwells  in  all  life,  and 
yielded  itself  absolutely  to  the  impulse  of 
divine  love.     By  force  of  the  marvellous 


214  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

endowments  of  his  nature  he  was  the 
teacher  of  those  about  him,  and  through 
them  of  all  mankind.  His  mission,  viewed 
in  relation  to  its  immediate  scope  and 
effect,  was  humble,  almost  insignificant, 
and  the  history  of  the  time  scarce  took 
notice  of  it.  But  in  such  a  life  and  char- 
acter, and  the  teachings  that  accompanied 
them,  there  was  something  inextinguish- 
able. There  was  a  light  kindled  that 
could  not  fail  to  spread  for  the  illumina- 
tion of  the  world. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  such  a  phenome- 
non at  such  a  time  and  place  should  come 
to  be  regarded  as  miraculous,  as  soon  as 
people  got  far  enough  from  it  to  discern 
its  true  proportions.  It  is  not  strange 
that  in  a  record  made  up  a  century  or 
more  after  the  marvellous  appearance,  in 
a  time  and  among  a  people  of  little  accu- 
racy in  knowledge  and  reasoning,  tales 
of  a  supernatural  origin,  of  supernatural 
powers  and  of  miraculous  accompani- 
ments of  the  birth,  life  and  death  of  such 
a  being  should  be  devoutly  accepted. 


MAN'S  REVELATION  TO  MAN.       21$ 

A  perfect  man  at  that  time,  devoted  to 
an  effort  to  make  all  mankind  perfect ! 
And  especially  a  man  who  bore  his  glad 
tidings  to  those  who  were  at  that  time 
universally  despised  and  down-trodden — 
the  poor !  What  could  be  more  wonder- 
ful and  more  calculated  to  excite  super- 
stitious faith  in  his  divinity,  in  an  age 
when  divinity  was  attributed  to  all  man- 
ner of  exceptional  persons? 

It  is  not  strange  if  those  who  founded 
a  new  religious  system  upon  his  teachings 
connected  his  appearance  and  mission 
with  the  long-cherished  Messianic  hopes 
of  Israel,  and  gave  their  fulfilment  a 
spiritual  turn.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  if  they  saw  in  him  the  embodiment  of 
the  vague  foreshadowings  of  seers  and 
prophets,  and  tried  to  make  the  dimly  re- 
membered and  imperfectly  recorded  facts 
of  his  life  and  teachings  conform  to  the 
prophesies  of  the  old  Jewish  Scriptures. 
Yet  no  man  ever  appeared  on  the  earth 
more  completely  unheralded. 

As    our   vision    becomes   broader   and 


2l6  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

clearer,  we  are  more  and  more  believers  in 
the  large  designs  of  the  Almighty  and  the 
Providence  that  works  in  the  laws  of  the 
universe,  and  nothing  is  plainer  than 
the  preparation  of  the  soil  of  the  human 
race  for  the  seed  sown  by  the  teacher  of 
Nazareth.  Hebrew  history,  with  its  the- 
ocratic idea  of  moral  human  government, 
Grecian  history,  with  its  development  of 
sentiment  and  refinement  and  intellectu- 
ality, and  Roman  history,  with  the  growth 
of  the  elements  of  conquest  and  power 
for  reducing  to  order  and  system, — these 
were  the  chief  factors  that  made  the 
world  ready  for  the  gospel  of  purity  and 
unselfish  goodness.  That  gospel  was  the 
mighty  leaven  needed  for  the  seething 
mass  of  humanity  ;  but  ages  were  required 
for  the  fermentation,  and  it  is  far  from 
finished  now.  When  the  whole  lump  is 
leavened,  then  will  the  Kingdom  of  God 
have  come  upon  the  earth. 

But  why  should  we  overlook  or  try  to 
explain  away  the  imperfections  and  in- 
consistences of  the  human  record  in  which 


MAN'S  RE  VELA  TION  TO  MAN.      2 1  / 

the  incidents  of  the  life  and  teachings  of 
Jesus  have  been  preserved  ?  Why  not 
rather  admit  that  it  is  a  purely  human 
record,  and  try  to  separate  from  the  er- 
rors which  it  contains  the  pure  truth  which 
is  alone  of  enduring  value  ?  That  later 
Scripture,  long  held  sacred,  is  so  only  ac- 
cording to  the  measure  of  truth  which  it 
contains  for  the  elevation  of  mankind,  and 
it  is  to  be  judged  like  other  literature, 
according  to  the  rules  of  reason  and  with 
reference  to  the  circumstances  of  its  pro- 
duction. The  incredible  is  not  to  be  be- 
lieved. That  which  is  not  according  to 
nature  is  not  to  be  accepted.  Out  of  the 
blending  of  legends  and  dim  traditions, 
the  tales  of  credulity  and  superstition,  the 
conflicting  statements  of  hearsay  evi- 
dence, and  the  writings  of  those  who 
sought  to  support  their  doctrines  and 
theories  by  events  which  occurred  before 
these  were  formed,  we  should  seek  to  ex- 
tract the  simplicity  of  truth. 

In  the   remarkable    episode  in  human 
development  which  had  its  impulse  in  the 


2 1 8  BE YOND  THE  BOURN. 

soul  of  a  Galilean  peasant,  there  is  no 
doubt  a  revelation  to  Man ;  but  it  is  a 
revelation  derived  from  his  own  experi- 
ence, which  has  been  in  manifold  ways 
misinterpreted.  Out  of  a  character  of 
divine  purity  and  strength,  out  of  teach- 
ings of  divine  simplicity  and  force,  be- 
cause in  the  highest  sense  human,  super- 
stition wrought  forms  of  faith  and  wor- 
ship adapted  to  the  transient  needs  of 
mankind.  Human  minds,  with  defective 
knowledge  and  perverted  spiritual  sense, 
striving  with  problems  beyond  their  com- 
pass and  dealing  with  men  in  whose  souls 
superstition  and  hereditary  passion  held 
sway,  devised  creeds  and  set  up  forms  of 
worship  that  served  for  restraint  and  for 
elevation  in  their  day.  All  systems  of 
belief  are  made  and  modified  by  man  to 
suit  the  needs  of  his  spiritual  growth,  and 
they  have  a  divine  sanction  just  so  far  as 
man  has  found  out  truth  and  given  it 
embodiment. 

Forms  of  belief  have  changed  with  the 
progress  of  the  race  and  must  change  or 


MAN 'S  RE  VELA  T70N  TO  MAN.       2 1 9 

die.  But  through  the  mass  of  human 
error  and  imperfection  has  wrought  for 
centuries  the  leaven  of  the  imperishable 
gospel  of  purity  and  unselfishness.  With 
increasing  knowledge  and  with  strength- 
ening reason  ancient  dogmas  shrivel  into 
dust,  but  only  to  reveal  the  truth  more 
clearly.  The  million  wrongs  and  evils 
with  which  humanity  struggles  in  its  up- 
ward course  are  due  to  the  selfish  in- 
stincts which  were  elements  of  strength 
to  the  race  in  .fighting  its  way  from  its 
brute  origin,  conquering  the  conditions  of 
growth  and  battling  for  the  mastery  of 
the  world.  But  these  selfish  instincts  de- 
rived from  an  ancestry  of  brutes,  and  nec- 
essary in  early  stages  of  struggle,  are  at 
war  with  the  spiritual  instincts.  All  come 
from  the  inspiration  of  divinity;  but  per- 
fectness  will  not  be  gained  till  the  spirit 
overcomes  the  flesh.  In  the  strife  of 
these  forces  is  the  battle  of  life  for 
man. 

The   latest  revelations  are  the  revela- 
tions of  reason,  wrought  out  of  the  knowl- 


220  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

edge  which  science  and  history  afford. 
They  are  as  sacred  to-day  as  were  ever 
the  oracles  of  the  olden  time,  and  they 
render  obsolete  every  belief  with  which 
they  are  inconsistent.  But  nothing  in 
man's  knowledge  or  reason  can  impair 
the  efificacy  of  the  gospel  of  purity  and 
self-sacrifice.  In  the  subjugation  of  self- 
ish instincts  and  the  devotion  of  efTort  to 
the  good  of  others  lies  the  salvation  of 
the  individual  and  of  the  race.  That  is  a 
doctrine  which  no  science  or  philosophy 
can  transcend  ;  and  no  progress  in  knowl- 
edge or  in  reasoning  can  dim  the  lustre 
of  the  character  of  the  Teacher  of  Naza- 
reth or  supersede  the  everlasting  truth  of 
his  most  essential  precepts  so  far  as  they 
bear  upon  human  conduct ;  indeed,  rightly 
read,  they  confirm  the  fundamental  verity 
of  his  principles.  Truths  cannot  be  in- 
consistent with  each  other. 

No  wonder  if  in  a  superstitious  age  he 
was  exalted  to  divinity  and  has  been  long 
held  representative  of  God  to  man.  But 
he  was  a  man  of  men,  the  type  of  what 


MAN 'S  RE  VELA  TION  TO  MAN.       22 1 

man  may  be  on  the  moral  and  spiritual 
side,  and  it  is  that  which  makes  of  him 
an  enduring  example.  The  pre-eminently 
human  teacher  who  sprang  out  of  the 
bosom  of  decaying  Judaism  to  give  new 
moral  and  spiritual  light  to  the  world  has 
for  ages  been  petrified  by  superstition, 
incrusted  with  dogmas  and  swathed  in 
theological  subtleties.  Unto  some  he 
has  become  an  imposing  idol  containing 
the  mysterious  person  of  unseen  divinity, 
and  has  been  enshrined  in  temples  as  a 
God,  while  to  others  he  has  been  made 
as  a  mummy,  worshipped  but  not  fol- 
lowed, holding  no  vital  relation  with  the 
living  human  race. 

It  is  the  mission  of  modern  knowledge 
and  untrammelled  reason,  in  exploring 
the  realm  of  physical  science  and  sounding 
the  depths  of  human  philosophy,  in  sub- 
jecting past  history  and  literature  to  the 
test  of  unflinching  criticism,  to  extract 
the  revelation  of  truth  from  whatever  is  ; 
and  they  should  restore  to  humanity  its 
greatest  Teacher,  by  restoring  humanity 


222  BEYOND  THE  BOURN. 

to  him.  All  revelation  of  man's  destiny- 
is  made  by  man  to  man ;  and  all  his 
search  is  to  find  out  God. 


THE  END. 


A  brainy  little  voluniey — PROVIDENCE  TELEGRAM. 


MIDNIGHT    TALKS 
Ht  tbe  Club. 

Reported  by  AMOS  K.  FISKE. 


Contents:  The  ''Owl Party  "  Temperance;  The  Shepherd- 
less  Sheep;  Sunday  Observance;  Religion;  Political  Imtnorality; 
Superstition  and  Worship;  The  Scriptures  as  a  Fetich;  Irish- 
Americans;  Moses  and  the  Prophets;  Ancient  Scriptures;  Value 
of  Human  Evidence;  Poivcr  of  Personality;  Discussions  Ap- 
plied; Usefulness  of  Delusion;  The  Faith  Defended;  Tolera- 
tion and  Enlightenment;  Co?nfort  in  Essential  Truths. 


"  A  delightful  book.  .  .  .  Cov- 
ering a  multitude  of  subjects  with  a 
kindly  light  of  wit  and  wisdom."  ■ 
Jno.  Bovle  O  Reilly,  Boston. 

"The  opinions  are  those  of  a 
broad-minded,  earnest  man  of  to- 
day, an  optimist  of  the  better  sort, 
and  they  are  written  in  crisp  and 
cogent  style.'" — Providence  Journal. 

"The  'Owl  Party'  of  four  who 
do  most  of  the  talkmg,  are  a  bright 
and  brainy  quartette."  —  Buffalo 
Express. 

"  Full  of  suggestion  to  the 
thoughtful. ' ' — Sa n  FranciscoChron- 
zcle. 

"  Healthful,  with  humor  and  se- 
riousness most  happily  blended  for 
the  making  of  a  book  that  is  at  once 
pleasant  and  wise." — Evening  Bul- 
letin, Philadelphia. 

"  Oftentimes  eloquent  and  at  all 
times  sincere,  even  when  the  play- 
ful humor  lies  beaming  on  the  sur- 
face, it  is  a  book  that  will  carry 
light  and  consolation  to  many 
doubting  minds."  —  New  York 
Times. 


"  Although  the  subjects  are  not 
new,  yet  there  is  a  freshness  about 
their  treatment  which  gives  an  im- 
pression of  novelty,  and  one  feels 
the  inspiration  of  a  certain  breadth 
and  liberality  of  thought  which  is 
uncommon  in  discussions  of  this 
sort.'^ — Boston  Post. 

"This  candor  of  mind,  and  a  cer- 
tain sweetness  of  temper  are  very 
alluring  to  the  reader,  who,  whether 
he  finds  his  own  pet  beliefs  con- 
firmed or  gently  taken  apart,  and 
their  incongruities  made  clear,  will 
enjoy  every  step  of  the  process." — 
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"Read  with  pleasure  and  laid 
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nourished  through  their  intelligence 
rather  than  through  their  preju- 
dices." —  The  Christian  Union, 
N.  Y. 


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ing Backward,  since  it  makes  every 
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est."— U.  S.  Senator  Wm.  P.  Frye. 
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straight,  and  brilliant  as  a  sword- 
thrust — and  as  terrible." — Howard's 
Column  in  New  York  Press. 


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tragic  pathos.  The  moral  needs  no 
emphasis." — Christian  Union. 

"  A  story  of  remarkable  power." — 
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a  (Breat  Morft  (rompIetc^. 


THE    LIFE   OF   JESUS,   THE    CHRIST, 

By  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 


Co7npleted  Edition.  Vol.  I  entire,  and  Vol.  II  to  end  of  Chap- 
ter XXV,  stand  as  Mr.  Beecher  finished  them.  Chapters  XXVI 
to  XXXII,  concluding  the  second  volume,  have  been  carefully 
compiled  from  the  Author's  Sermons  along  the  line  of  the  topics  in- 
volved, by  his  son,  Wm.  C.  Beecher  and  Rev.  Samuel  Scoville. 

Issued  in  two  vols.,  8vo;  richly  illustrated  with  steel  and  wood  engrav- 
ings and  three  Maps.  Cloth,  $5.50 ;  library  style,  $7.50 ;  half  morocco, 
$9.50.  Volumes  separately,  for  those  who  wish  to  complete  old  sets: 
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and  identical  binding,  are  invited  to  correspond  with  the  undersigned.) 


Fragments  of  Opinion  when  Vol.  I  was  issued. 


The  ordinary  overflowing  exuber- 
ance of  his  style,  its  manifold  illus- 
trations, its  boldness  and  occasional 
homeliness,  its  perpetual  play  of  wit 
and  sarcasm,  are  here  abated;  the 
marvelous  majesty  and  beauty  of  the 
person  of  Jesus  have  had  an  elevating 
and  chastening  power.  The  result 
is  a  dignity  almost  uniformly  sus- 
tained, and  now  and  then  passages 
of  exquisite  hea.nX.y.''^— Presbyterian 
Quarterly  and  Princeton  Review. 

"The  great  poet-preacher  of  our 
day  has  prepared  for  the  Church  a 
marvelous  gallery  of  pictures.  .  .  . 
No  one  can  easily  lay  aside  the  book 
when  once  he  commences  its  perusal 
until  he  has  completed  the  last  page; 
and  all  will  anxiously  await  the  pub- 
lication of  the  concluding  volume."— 
Christian  Advocate,  New  York. 


"  In  the  best  qualities  of  historical 
composition,  in  bold  grouping,  strong 
delineation,  clear  narrative,  the  book 
is  all  that  could  be  asked  for;  and  the 
constant  recurrence  of  metaphors  and 
illustrations  from  the  natural  world 
has  a  singular  appropriateness  and 
beauty  in  the  story  of  one  who 
so  constantly  taught  by  like  meth- 
ods."—  Boston  Daily  Advertiser, 
Mass. 

"  We  perpetually  feel  the  author's 
master-power  as  he  darts  forth  a  con- 
densed argument  in  a  single  illustra- 
tion. This  quality  makes  the  work 
eminently  suggestive,  and  every  min- 
ister, teacher,  parent  and  thinking 
person  will  find  it  of  great  conse- 
quence to  keep  by  him  for  frequent 
reference  and  use."— 7V^«/  York 
Standard, 


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Hn  ample  IRecorb. 


Biography  of  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher. 

By   Wm.   C.   Beecher  and   Rev.   Samuel   Scoville, 

ASSISTED    BY    MrS.    HeNRY    WaRD    BEECHER. 


This  standard  work,  known  generally  as  "The  Family  Biog- 
raphy," to  distinguish  it  from  the  many  hasty  and  ephemeral 
compilations  sold  as  giving  the  "  life"  of  Mr.  Beecher,  has  in- 
trinsic merits  which  are  more  and  m.ore  recognized  as  it  takes  its 
permanent  place.  It  gives  ample  details  of  Mr.  Beecher's  child- 
hood, youth  and  early  manhood;  copious  extracts  from  his  char- 
acteristic diaries,  and  graphic  portrayals  of  his  experiences  and 
conflicts  as  a  preacher  of  Christ  and  a  champion  of  liberty.  Every 
page  possesses  a  fascination  growing  out  of  the  subject.  The 
tribulations  and  sorrows  of  fiie  great  preacher  are  not  passed  over 
lightly,  as  many  advised,  but  are  calmly  and  sorrowfully  set  forth 
in  clear  perspective,  as  befits  an  impartial  history. 

One  vol.,  large  8vo,  713  pp.     "With  fine  steel  engraving  of  H 
W.  Beecher,  and  copious   index.     Cloth,   $3.00  ;  sheep,   $3.50  ; 
red  seal,  $3.75;  half  morocco,  $4.50;  full  morocco,  |6. 

"  Will  always  be  the  best  personal 
biography  of  Mr.  Beecher— the  one 
which  contains  the  most  of  his  own 
personality.  .  .  .  The  editors  have 
wisely  kept  themselves  in  the  back- 
ground, and  making  use  of  the  au- 
tobiographical material  which  Mr. 
Beecher  left  in  the  form  of  letters 
and  in  personal  reminiscences  scat- 
tered through  his  writings,  they 
have  woven  together  a  narrative  of 
which  Mr.  Beecher  may  be  truly  said 
to  be  himself  the  author." — Chris- 
tian Union. 


"  Every  word    in   this   book  has 


been  read  by  us  with  the  deepest  in- 
terest. ...  A  narrative  in  which 
truthfulness  is  patent  in  every  line. 
.  .  .  We  heartily  commend  the 
reading  of  this  book  to  those  who 
desire  to  obtain  an  inside  as  well  as 
an  outside  view  of  Mr.  Beecher's 
Xii^:' —Pulpit  Treasury.,  N.  Y. 

"  Rich  in  its  collection  of  facts,  it 
bears  evidence  of  singular  industry 
and  devotion  on  the  part  of  its  com- 
pilers._  ...  On  the  whole  the 
book  is  one  of  remarkable  interest, 
and  will,  we  think,  grow  in  public 
iaL.\or."— North  American  Review. 


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SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA. 


Says 
CHARLES   DUDLEY  WARNER: 

"  Mr.  Theodore  S.  Van  Dyke,  a  graduate  of  a  New  Eng- 
land college,  has  lived  nearly  twenty  years  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia, and  hunted,  fished  and  tramped  over  every  acre  of  it. 
He  is  the  most  competent,  accomplished,  and  level-headed 
historian  California  ever  had.  He  has  a  very  practical  turn, 
and  is  thoroughly  up  in  agriculture,  horticulture,  the  problem 
of  immigration,  etc.  Besides  all  this,  he  has  uncommon  pow- 
ers of  description  and  a  genuine  literary  gift.  It  is  not  claim- 
ing too  much  to  say  that  he  is  on  the  Pacific  coast  what  John 
Burroughs  is  on  the  Atlantic.  But  he  has  more  humor  than 
Burroughs,  and  an  equally  keen  instinct  of  nature.  His  former 
book  on  '  Southern  California '  is  altogether  the  best  that  has 
been  written,  and  it  is  so  because  Mr  Van  Dyke  has  the  liter- 
ary art, which  is  the  art  of  seeing  things  as  they  are," 


Southern  California:  Its  Val 

leys,  Hills  and  Streams;  its 
Animals,  Birds  and  Fishes; 
its  Gardens,  Farms  and  Cli- 
mate. i2mo.  Ex.  cloth, 
beveled.     $1.50. 

"  Reading  it  makes  one  long  at 
once  to  be  avyay  to  taste  the  delights 
of  that  charming  country."— Z^w- 
do7i  (Eng.)  Graphic. 

The  Still  Hunter:  A  Popular 

Treatise   on   Deer  Stalking. 

i2mo.     Ex.    cloth,    beveled. 

$2.00. 

"  The  best,  the  very  best  work  on 
deer  hunting.'"--.*v«/r/V  o/the  Times. 

"  Altogether  the  best  and  most 
complete  American  book  we  have 
yet  seen  on  any  branch  of  field 
sports." — Nerv  York  Evening  Post. 


Millionaires  of  a  Day:  Ai 
Inside  History  of  the  Greai 
Southern  California  Boom. 
i2mo.  Ex.  cloth,  .fi;  paper, 
50  cents. 

"  A  witty  and  entertaining,  but 
withal  v.iluable  and  shrewd  descrip- 
tion of  real  and  fanciful  growth  of 
a  most  favored  land." — Detroit  Tri- 
bune. 

Rifle,  Rod  and  Gun  in  Cali- 
fornia: A  Sporting  Romance. 
i2mo.      Ex.    cloth,    beveled, 

$1.50. 

"Crisp  and  readable  throughout, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  gives  a  full 
and  truthful  technical  account  of 
our  Southern  California  game, 
afoot,  afloat,  or  on  the  wing." — 
San  Francisco  Alta  California. 


FORDS,   HOWARD,  &   HULBERT, 
30  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


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